Chuck vs The Next Generation
by P.J. Murphy
Summary: In 2033, John Bartowski, the son of Chuck and Sarah Bartowski, is heading to London to prepare for college. When his parents are kidnapped, he learns the history of his family...and why he has an Uncle Casey.  AU with S5 references. Story now complete.
1. London, Baby!

_Hello. It's been a couple of months since I was able to come up with some ideas for a new story. I thought about a Chuck story that was a parody of the great Mel Brooks classic "Blazing Saddles," but I had too much difficulty making it work in text. (Although three guesses as to who would have played Mongo.) Then **BDaddyDL** told me of an idea he had where the son of Chuck and Sarah Bartowski would find out about his parents and help when they get into trouble. Some of the ideas I came up with differed from his vision of the story, but I'll assume he's OK with the changes, given what he thought of some of the sections when I asked him to look over them. So a big thanks to him for giving me a new story to write._

_This will follow the canon of Chuck through all five seasons as closely as possible, but I had to include some of my original characters to make certain plot elements work. Therefore, just like in **Chuck vs. a Blonde Leia, an Angry Jayne, and NOT Tricia Helfer**, Agents Alex Forrest and Jimmy Slade will be on hand, although the focus of the story will be on Chuck and Sarah's son and a few new friends he discovers. What happened to the Intersect project will be explained in the story._

_Hope that sets the story properly. Again, thanks to **BDaddyDL** for coming up with this idea. Enjoy, and please leave reviews. Thanks!_

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><p><em><strong>Virgin Atlantic Flight 47 to London<br>March 18, 2033  
>12:30 AM<strong>_

_London calling to the faraway towns_  
><em>Now that war is declared - and battle come down<em>  
><em>London calling to the underworld<em>  
><em>Come out of the cupboard, all you boys and girls<em>  
><em>London calling, now don't look at us<em>  
><em>All that phony Beatlemania has bitten the dust<em>  
><em>London calling, see we ain't got no swing<em>  
><em>'Cept for the ring of that truncheon thing<em>

_The ice age is coming, the sun is zooming in_  
><em>Meltdown expected and the wheat is growing thin<em>  
><em>The engines stopped running, but I have no fear<em>  
><em>London is drowning - and I live by the river<em>

-/^\-

John Stephen Bartowski eyed his seatmate and best friend, Connor McShay, with the same sort of disdain he reserved for when Connor tried to hit on Mary Grier at their high school. Connor was oblivious to the racket he was causing among the other passengers…even before taking into account his horrible singing voice. Of course, every person had one of "those" friends; the ones who drove you up a wall but you couldn't bring yourself to hate because they were really good people. His father, Chuck, had one of those. For the life of him, John couldn't picture Uncle Morgan being one of "those" friends, given he was the CEO of Buy More and responsible for fifteen stores throughout southern California. The only working theory John could come up with was Aunt Alex must have straightened him out at some point. She was unquestionably the more responsible one of his favorite set of aunts and uncles.

He wasn't sure if he set a record for the most number of aunts and uncles, but since Aunt Ellie and Uncle Devon were the only ones who were blood-related, there had to be something unusual about that.

There were plenty of people who were close friends of his parents that watched John and his younger sister grow up. If nothing else, at least it wasn't hard to trace where his penchant for mathematics and science originated, to say nothing about being a three-sport athlete at Santa Monica High School. His parents always told him he got his brains from his father and his looks from his mother, Sarah. It wasn't hard to fathom; he had his father's height but his light brown hair was much closer to his mother's blonde hair. And there was no question he inherited his mother's azure eyes. His sister, on the other hand, was brunette through and through, much shorter at 5'4", and had eyes so brown, Uncle Casey used to joke that Uncle Morgan must have stopped by the house one day when Chuck was away on business. Thankfully, Aunt Gertrude eventually cured him of that habit.

John tapped Connor on his shoulder. "Do you take requests?"

Connor took off his headphones and paused his iPod XVI. "Always," he said with a grin.

"Ever heard of _One __Step __Further_ by Some Holds Barred?"

"Nope."

"Good, sing that," John answered with some snark behind his voice.

"Hey, this song is epic, man. It's by this group called The Clash. It's, like, 50 or 60 years old or something. I'm telling you; music was so much better back then. None of this emo-syntho crap you hear now."

"Yeah, kids have it so rough these days," John grumbled, hearing echoes of Uncle Casey in his head again. He inflected his voice to evoke the guttural tones of his gruff uncle. "When I was your age, we only had 100 channels of TV, and we actually had to walk to this thing called the library if we wanted to read a book…"

"Who is that you're imitating?" Connor asked. "It sounds like you…only more like a man."

"Yeah, yeah. Funny," John replied as he scratched his temple with his middle finger.

"Dude, seriously. You should be more excited about this trip. You look like you're flying to someone's funeral."

"I think you're doing enough celebrating for the both of us," John said with a sigh.

Connor gave him a look. "Hey, is it my fault I'm enjoying the chance to spend Spring Break in London? Think about it: you and me, we get to see the countryside, you check out Cambridge, see if it's everything you were hoping for, we take in some sites…"

"…you get plastered at the pubs and hit on anything in a skirt," John finished for him. "I think the only reason you're tagging along with me is that you get a three-year head start on being a full-blown alcoholic."

"Oh, please. You are such a boy scout. The only way you could ever put a smile on your face is with a hammer and a chisel. I guess I can't blame you with the parents you have. Especially your mom."

"What are you talking about?"

"Remember when we were twelve; we were playing _Call __of __Duty __XV_? I did that dive to grab the plasma grenade and broke your coffee table? I swear, the look she gave me, I almost wet my pants. Are you sure she wasn't, like, a trained assassin when she was younger?"

"Connor, how many times? She's worked in my dad's company for as long as I can remember. She runs the place, for crying out loud. They're in D.C. on a business trip even as we speak."

"At least your dad was cool about it."

John nodded. "Well, he could sympathize. Mom told me he was a total gamer. Bigger than you and me put together."

"Only now he makes a boatload of money designing them. That secret agent game he invented is just so cool. Way better than the James Bond videogames. You're just a regular person and the government calls you up and you become a superspy? Where did he come up with that idea?"

John shrugged. He knew his mother was the Chief Operations Officer for the company, but he didn't know exactly what his father did there. Whenever he asked his father about his work, he was always quick to credit his programming team for coming up with the ideas. However, since his father made enough money where John could afford to fly first class to London and even pay Connor's way across the pond, he wasn't exactly complaining. His parents could even afford to pay for Cambridge, although John had scholarship offers from several stateside schools. They wanted him to go wherever he desired. He just had to come back with good grades.

"Are they meeting up with your Aunt Alex? Maybe it's like that old author who wrote those military books back in the 90s and 2000s."

"Tom Clancy?"

"Yeah, I heard he got called in front of this secret committee before Congress to explain where he got all of his information from. Maybe that's what your parents are doing."

"I highly doubt that," John replied, wondering why he ever let Connor tag along with him to London.

"But that's so cool, man. Your parents are good friends with the head of the CIA."

"No, Aunt Alex is higher up than the head of the CIA. She's the Director of National Intelligence. She's in charge of everything and reports directly to the President. I think."

John wasn't certain if he had Aunt Alex's title exactly right, but he did know Alex Forrest-Slade took over for the previous director not long after she married Uncle Jimmy. Or, according to both his mother and Aunt Ellie, dragged Uncle Jimmy down to the church because he was too clueless to propose to her. They had been married for fifteen years. He was the ring bearer at their wedding, and Aunt Ellie broke out the picture of him walking down the aisle next to his cousin, Clara, whenever she wanted to embarrass John in front of his friends.

He had only seen Aunt Alex a handful of times in his life, but he saw his Uncle Jimmy almost every year. He was an executive with the Washington Nationals, and John credited him for his interest in sports. They would sit in one of the skyboxes whenever the Dodgers hosted the Nats. Connor always considered it the highlight of the summer; they would always run into the hottest A-list Hollywood stars whenever Jimmy was in town.

"OK, I'm starting to crash. Are you planning to draw on me or try to balance cups of water on my head while I'm taking a nap?" John asked with a wary gaze at Connor.

"Would I do that to you?" Connor asked, and John's icy glare dropped another ten degrees. "Again?"

John put his noise-cancelling headphones on and turned his iComm to a smooth jazz station, completely unable to imagine when portable computers were the size of large manilla folders. He was asleep within minutes, happy to get some rest for the remainder of the trip.

_**Filomena Ristorante, Washington, D.C.**_  
><em><strong>March 16, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>8:45 PM EDT<strong>_

Alex Forrest-Slade was able to relax for the first time in almost two weeks. It was the most she was ever grilled by the President's advisors since she took over this job thirteen years ago. She was questioned less during her initial Senate subcommittee hearing, a standard process to vet a person for a job of this stature but which never made it on record. However, President Beckett believed in the old Murphy's Law adage "if everything's going right, you obviously overlooked something."

If there was one constant to her 31 years in this business, politicians were full of it.

They were shocked...as was Alex herself...when General Diane Beckman recommended Alex as her replacement as the Director of National Intelligence when she retired at the end of the 2010s. But this was a different country. Even Alex was amazed how well the country had been running over the last fifteen years. At some point during the '10s, all the political parties decided to start working together, and the economy slowly built itself back up after so many problems to start the 2000s. Several conflicts with China in the early 2020s made things hairy for a while, but eventually they settled down and became a more hospitable trading partner. There were a few hiccups when a new regime emerged in Russia, and a decades-long skirmish between India and Pakistan threatened to spill past their respective countries, but nothing occurred on the scale of the old Cold War of the late 20th century or the Cuban Missile Crisis or even 9/11.

Then again, perhaps the President was right. All was right with the world, yet Alex was the busiest Director of National Intelligence in history.

With the shifting politics and economics of the world, it was her job to keep up with it and make sure the country's intelligence agencies adjusted quickly. Although she had a team of advisors to help her, she relied on Jimmy a considerable amount. For someone who was supposed to highly skilled in mathematics and computers, Jimmy wasn't half bad at political science and communications. Intelligence-gathering had increased by 25% during her tenure with only small rises in her annual budgets to account for cost-of-living increases. This was unprecedented in the world of intelligence, and Alex seemed to spend as much time explaining to other countries' intelligence agencies how she did her job as she did actually doing her job.

Of course, she couldn't tell the President she leaned a lot on her husband for advice. Politicians tended to frown on consulting with people you were screwing silly.

She asked Jimmy to marry her after getting tired of waiting for him to pop the question. Realizing he was either too clueless or too scared to take the plunge, she decided she would just do it the way men were supposed to: romantic dinner, night on the town, and a beautiful engagement ring. When she asked him, he felt so embarrassed about not asking her, the engagement ring he ran out to buy her the very next day had a diamond on it so large, it could be seen by the people building the Mars Space Station...without a telescope. Thankfully, the rest of it worked out beautifully. Sarah Bartowski was her Matron of Honor, and her two nieces were her bridesmaids. The highlight of the small wedding was watching her nieces keep John Casey out on the dance floor all night.

Alex checked the time on her government-issue comm system. These were popular items, mostly thanks to Apple making them for the public. But the candy bar-sized communications unit she held was several generations ahead of what was available in the stores and could access any computer system she needed. And she knew the inventor of it. In fact, Chuck and Sarah were now twenty minutes late for dinner. That was unusual in and of itself, but those two always enjoyed their time together, especially when they went on business trips. Sarah always accompanied her husband, which was especially advantageous since Chuck was likely considered a high-profile target to many nefarious organizations, and Sarah was in amazing shape for a 53-year-old.

Alex was probably being paranoid, but paranoia was part and parcel with her job. She started making inquiries using her gComm.

_**Wheatsheaf Pub, Southwark Street, London  
>March 18, 2033<br>9:30 PM GMT**_

Both Connor and John knew of the long-flight rule stating you should remain awake until it was the normal sleep time for whatever time zone you visited. Connor bounded around on energy he couldn't get if he ate a dozen donuts, but John limped to their hotel and crashed until 2:00 PM London time. From there, he barely made it in time for his 3:00 PM appointment with the Admissions Counselor at Cambridge to set up his itinerary for while he was in town. After barely making it back to his hotel, he just wanted to crawl into bed and wake up in the morning, bypassing any other activities for the entire day.

Connor, naturally, had other plans, all of which required his wingman. And unlike the United States, he could walk right into any bar he wanted.

RED-B chips had been installed in all ID cards for the last 20 years. The Radio Enhanced Database chips (RED-B) made it all but impossible to create a fake ID, since a scanner could easily identify the actual name and birthdate of the ID holder. This made Connor's excitement about going to a city where the legal drinking age was still eighteen even more off the charts. Sure enough, the pub was filled to capacity with college students and nursing students from nearby hospitals blowing off steam from the week. Even Connor could find someone in a place like this.

Not that John was enthusiastic about helping his friend get laid. He was content to just play the VR Biplane Battle game in the corner of the pub and not be bothered otherwise.

"Talk to me, Goose," Connor said as he announced his presence at the VR game, annoying John in the process.

"Goose?"

Connor pointed to the game. "You of all people should know what that means. Look at what game you're playing."

"Uh, biplanes were from World War I. I think you're quoting a movie from the 1980s."

"Whatever, I need your help." Connor gestured over to the opposite end of the bar. "I've got two women who have been eyeing me all night. Even you know you can't approach them two-against-one. Come on. Wingman time."

"We flew all night, and I have twelve different orientation lectures to attend this weekend. Can't I just play it low-key tonight?"

Connor looked ready to pull his hair out. "John, you've GOT to be kidding." He gestured to the two women. "You know how long we would have to wait to meet women like that in a bar in L.A.? We can't even GET into bars in L.A.! This is the universe throwing us a bone. Let's go! Time to sink your teeth in."

"Forget it," John grumbled.

Connor held his hand over the joystick John was using to guide the biplane. "Five, four..."

"Don't even think about it, jackass."

"Three..." Connor didn't bother counting two or one as he grabbed the joystick and moved it in all directions until John's biplane crashed. "Sorry, game over. Better luck next time. Now let's go!"

John quietly growled at him, but he knew Connor would keep pestering him until he caved. He grabbed his drink and followed behind Connor to the end of the bar where the two ladies were. As annoying as Connor was, John had to admit the man knew attractive women when he saw them. If Connor kept to his standard pattern, he'd chat up the blonde sitting on the barstool with the white blouse and the black miniskirt. John heard endlessly from his classmates over the years how hot his mother was, particularly from Connor. It drove him up a wall on an almost-daily basis. No doubt that would factor into Connor's choice, leaving him with her friend, whom John thought was very attractive. She had long fire-red hair and blue eyes that were a lighter shade even than his. John wasn't sure, but he got the feeling the redhead was mentally undressing him as they walked up to the ladies.

_There's a first for everything_, John thought to himself.

He was never short of dates in high school, but the longest relationship he had with anybody was for six months in his junior year. He took the relationship far more seriously than she did, and she decided she would be better off with a total douchebag whose parents owned a palatial mansion just off the PCH. But not a single girl in high school ever looked at him the way the redhead was looking at him now.

"Good evening," Connor began the chess match. "Can we get you another drink?"

"A couple of ales," the blonde said with a smile. Connor motioned to the bartender, who brought another round to the ladies. "Obviously, you're not from London. From where are you on holiday?"

"We live just outside of Los Angeles, in Malibu."

The blonde's eyes lit up at that, but the redhead seemed to just take in the conversation while keeping an eye on John. "So, how close do those shows on TV come to the real thing?"

John laughed gently. "Not very. There are a lot of parties, but it's not all backstabbing and drama. And much less cosmetic surgery than they say."

The blonde laughed at that while keeping an eye on Connor. Clearly, the two women had picked out who would get whom long before Connor and he decided.

"I'm Connor and this is John." Connor extended his hand to the blonde, which she shook.

"I'm Michelle and this is Samantha," the blonde replied.

"Sam is fine," Samantha said as she shook John's hand.

Michelle tipped her drink towards Connor. "And thank you for the drinks. Most of the Americans we've met are far less subtle than you two."

"Oh, wait 'til he gets a few drinks in him. You won't be saying that then," John quipped, happy he could at least insult Connor with the little schtick they had going.

Michelle laughed hysterically, but Samantha settled for just smiling. "Wait, wait," Michelle interrupted. "John?" she asked, pointing to him. "And Connor?" she asked and pointed again. "John Connor?"

Connor laughed while John rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that joke never gets old. Our parents we're preemptively creative. They must have known we'd find each other before we were born. And we've been hearing Schwarzenegger imitations ever since."

Everybody laughed at that. Michelle stood up purposefully from her barstool. "Connor, could you help me with the jukebox? The students here play nothing but crap. What was that old style of music with the drums and bass guitars and all that?"

"Classic rock?"

"That's it. Could you help me with finding some good songs to play?"

"Not a problem," Connor said with a smile. Michelle walked over to the jukebox, gently pulling on Connor's arm.

"We'll be back," both of them said in a horribly-botched imitation of Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Samantha moved in front of Michelle's barstool so she was standing right next to John. "I take it he's the outgoing member of your little team?" Samantha asked with a hint of mischief in her voice John could have sworn he heard before.

He nodded. "He's Maverick, and I'm Goose."

"Maverick and Goose?"

"Old movie from the 1980s. Maverick was a hot-shot Navy pilot, and Goose was the family man who was his partner."

Samantha shrugged. "There's nothing wrong with being the responsible one."

"Only Goose dies halfway through the film."

"Oh. Well, in that case..." Samantha gave him a smile.

"Um, I think Michelle is trying to signal you," John said as he pointed behind Samantha. She turned to look at Michelle, who flipped her hair off of her shoulders.

"Oh, great," Samantha said with considerable petulance.

"What is it?"

Samantha turned back to him. "Well, if your friend likes Michelle, he's about to really like her. The hair flip is our 'I'm getting some' signal."

John's eyes widened slightly. "Really?"

"She wants me to go across the street to the corner shop and get a box of condoms."

"Want me to go with you?"

"Oh, no. Stay here. Could you get us another round? I'm still sort of...deciding...and you standing right there won't help."

"Deciding?" John asked, to which Samantha gave him a serious 'come hither' look. "Oh, deciding."

"Be right back."

John watched Samantha walk out of the pub and across the street. He turned back to the bar to order another round, giving the bartender a twenty. He took a sip from his ale when a sharp scream could be heard from ouside. He sprinted out of the bar to see what was going on.

He crossed the street just in time to see Samantha hurled into the side of the corner store. A man pointed a knife in her direction.

John charged at the man and knocked him down. The man quickly got up and went after John with the knife. John sidestepped him and grabbed his wrist, twisting the man's arm behind him in a half-Nelson. He bent the man's wrist back until the knife dropped to the ground. John kicked the knife away as the man spun around, forcing John to release his wrist. He tried to throw a punch, but John ducked and thust a palm strike at the man's face, knocking him back. He followed it up with a hook to the man's chin. The man fell to the ground, and John stood over him, almost daring him to get up again. The man scrambled backwards away from him and took off down the alley. John chased him for twenty yards, but the man disappeared.

John returned to the corner store to find Samantha breathing heavily and still in shock from what happened.

"Are you OK?" John asked her.

Samantha's breathing returned to normal, and she looked at him in awe. "Wow. All the nasty things my classmates say about Americans? You just disproved every one of them."

"Are you sure you're OK?"

Samantha nodded slowly. She then put her arms around John and hugged him tightly. "Thank you," she said quietly into his ear.

"You're still shaking a bit," he said as he held onto her.

"I'm sorry. I'm just still a little freaked out by what just happened. I hope you don't mind if I borrow your embrace for a few more seconds."

John smiled. "Not at all. That sort of thing would freak me out."

Samantha pulled back slightly but still held onto John. "Freak you out? You have to be kidding me. Brave, smart, attractive, friendly, AND humble? Who were your parents, Zeus and Athena?"

He laughed. "Oh, come on. I'm not anybody special. I just happened to be around when someone needed help. I mean, I probably get that from my parents. I don't know."

"Then they taught you very well," Samantha said confidently as she kissed John on his cheek. She took his hand and started pulling him back to the pub. "I would definitely like to finish that drink. Are you up for it?"

"Sure," John replied as they walked across the street and reentered the pub. The bartender put a round of drinks in front of them.

"On the house, mate," the bartender said. "That was nice work over there. Are you one of those Army Ranger types?"

"Me?" John was shocked. "No, not at all."

The bartender walked away. John turned towards Samantha, who was definitely standing closer to him than she was earlier. "Then where did you learn that?" she asked, her sky blue eyes twinkling even in the darkened pub.

"I don't know. I mean, my mother learned a few things from a self-defense course she took in college and made sure my sister and me knew the basics. Some of it probably came from watching too many of those old Jackie Chan films."

"Oh, that really short guy who could fly all over the place and did all of those kung-fu moves? He did a few comedy movies, right?"

"Some of them were, yes. My dad says I pick up on things easily. He claims I got it from my mother, but she claims I got it from him."

"Wow, it sounds like you do have the perfect parents," Samantha said as her hand slid surreptitiously over his.

"Mmm, I don't know. They were pretty strict growing up. We had a lot of things, but both of them made sure we earned our keep. I worked part-time during the summer in high school when I wasn't playing sports. Any grade lower than a B, and the car keys and all the computer games would disappear in an instant. Thankfully, I only got a C once. Consumer Education, and I got it up to a B by the end of the semester."

"It sounds like you were quite the genius. And you played sports, too?"

"My Uncles Casey and Jimmy kind of 'encouraged' me to do it. I think Uncle Casey in particular was afraid I would become too much like my father and would, to use his words, 'be forced to chop down the Bartowski family tree before the world was knee-deep in nerds'.

Samantha laughed heartily at that. She grabbed her ale and downed the remainder of it. "Woo!" she exclaimed as she leaned against John for support. She held onto him as she looked around the bar. "Where is that little tart?"

"Who?"

"Michelle. She makes me go get the condoms, then I get attacked, and she doesn't even have the decency to stick around."

"Oh. Sorry."

"She must really like your friend. She probably couldn't wait and sent him into the loo to buy a couple out of the machine."

"Can I get you a taxi back to your dorm or apartment? Or they calls those flats here, right?"

John started to back away, but Samantha held him in place. She was determined to keep him close to her, and he wasn't exactly upset by it. "We could try, but there will probably be a bra hanging off of the doorknob."

"You're kidding."

"That's the way Michelle operates. We're the best of friends until it's time to find some guys. Then it's every girl for herself."

Samantha slid her arms around John's neck. "Besides, do you remember when I said I was still trying to decide?" She stood on her toes as she pulled John down to her lips. John's eyes widened as he was on the receiving end of a kiss that put every kiss he ever had to shame. Samantha pressed into him as her tongue teased his.

"You kind of made that decision for me," she said in a throaty voice as she grabbed his face and kissed him harder. His hands gently cradled her back as they continued their steamy make-out session. She reached behind her to move one of his hands down to her ass. John gave thought to backing away, but Samantha putting both of her hands on his ass and squeezing tightly ended that argument quickly.

"Wait, wait," John said as a bit of that 'good parenting' he received growing up was messing with his conscience. "Are you sure this is such a good idea? I mean, you were attacked earlier, and..."

Samantha clamped her hand over John's mouth to silence him. Her hands slid around his neck once again. "Let me tell you a little something about me," she purred. "I don't hear the word 'no' from men very often. The word 'yes'? I hear that all the time. And at the risk of sounding arrogant, I have every intention of hearing 'yes' from you all night long."

John stared in shock at Samantha, who then proceeded to make her first kiss feel like a peck on the cheek. She hooked her leg around his body and squeezed his ass again as she kissed and nibbled his neck, breaking down any last objection John might have had to taking her back to his hotel room.

They quickly dashed out of the bar and into the first available taxi.

_**Langham Hotel, London**_  
><em><strong>March 19, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>12:15 AM GMT<strong>_

John and Samantha stumbled out of the elevator in permanent lip lock. They darted back and forth as they walked down the hall, throwing themselves off-balance with their intense kissing. They made to John's hotel room. He broke away from her long enough to unlock the door and open it. He stared in total shock.

Casey, Gertrude, Jimmy, and Alex were there. As was Aunt Carina, whom he hadn't seen in years.

He suddenly turned and looked at Samantha. _THAT'S who she reminded me of_, he thought.

"John, could you go inside?" Samantha asked softly, acting nothing at all like the sexually-charged person she was a moment ago.

John timidly stepped inside. There was a chair set up in the middle of the room that faced everybody. He slowly sat down.

"You know everybody already," Carina said. She gestured to Samantha. "And this is my daughter, Samantha."

"Your...your daughter?" John was having dificulty trying to process everything that had happned to him tonight. "What's going on?"

He looked around the room, and the solemn expressions on everyone's faces were not assuaging his fears. Quite the opposite, in fact.

"John..." Casey began.

John turned to look at his namesake, who bore the most serious expression he had ever seen on his uncle.

"Your parents are missing," he said quietly.


	2. My Parents Are Cool?

_Hello. I knew there would be a delay in getting out the next chapter, mainly because of the holiday and publishing my traditional one-shot stories. But I was trying to come up with a good path to take this story. I'll try to get out the third chapter by next Monday. (I hope.) In the meantime, I'm still counting down the remaining episodes until the Chuck finale. (and getting more depressed each week, yes) But at least I learned a few things about myself. You might find this weird, but writing these stories is well out of my comfort zone, as I'm accustomed to just staying in the background and not putting myself out there. Granted, a fanfic story isn't exactly doing Shakespeare in Central Park, but I was never known for attempting to be creative. Just surviving was enough of a task for me._

_Anyway, enough about that. I hope you enjoy the chapter. Thanks to **BDaddyDL** for some feedback on what I wrote. Please leave reviews. Thanks!_

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><p><strong><em>Hyatt Regency Hotel, Washington, D.C.<br>_****_March 16, 2033  
><em>****_8:00 PM EDT_**

He thought he would have been used to them by now, but he wasn't.

Chuck Bartowski stood in front of the mirror in their hotel suite trying to get his tie just right. He was wearing his best navy blue suit per the boss' orders. The boss, of course, being his wife, Sarah. After almost twenty-two years of marriage and nearly that long as the head of Carmichael Industries, having met three Presidents, a half-dozen foreign leaders, and giving enough money away to charity to make Bill Gates jealous, Chuck still hated getting dressed up. An oxford shirt and double-knotting his Converse Chuck Taylors were his limits when it came to fussing over his attire. But he always deferred to Sarah in these matters, even if they were just meeting one of their friends for dinner.

Of course, when your wife emerges from the bedroom in a form-fitting teal-colored dress, looking as beautiful as she did the day she walked into the Buy More twenty-six years ago, your tendency was to defer to her judgment on a regular basis.

Chuck stood there with his traditional stunned silly expression upon seeing her, which always generated a smile from Sarah. How he was able to look at her the same way he had for over two decades was beyond her comprehension. Psychologists theorized that truly happy couples never saw their partners they way they were in the present; they always saw them the way they looked when they first met. Given how much she loved her husband and vice versa, Sarah had no problems accepting that theory.

"And you look handsome, too," she said as she gazed upon her husband, her crystal blue eyes sparkling against the lights of the D.C. skyline.

She walked up to him and straightened his tie. "Worried about the kids?"

Chuck nodded shyly. "A little bit. John will be going to college in five months. I guess it still hasn't sunk in yet. Emma will start high school next year. It feels like everything is just flying by."

"And if that's not enough, the boys are asking her out now."

"Yeah, where's Casey when I really need him?"

Sarah laughed. "God, I feel so sorry for his two daughters when they reach Emma's age. He wasn't around to threaten Alex's potential boyfriends, so he has some catching up to do."

Chuck smiled at that. Despite having a daughter back when he was still Alex Coburn, Chuck never expected Casey to get within ten miles of having kids ever again and he assumed Gertrude Verbanski was the same way. However, as they continued to manage their security company, Casey and Verbanski decided to start another little project. They adopted two baby girls who lost their parents during the Russian Civil War ten years ago. Chuck and Sarah figured Natalya and Olga would be permitted to date around the time they were old enough to be great-grandparents.

"Thankfully, Alex ended up with the right person." Chuck paused for a moment. "Or, at least there are plenty of guys much worse than Morgan."

"Very true, Chuck," Sarah replied with a giggle as she went to the closet to get her coat.

"We're just meeting Alex tonight, is that correct? Jimmy won't be there?" Chuck asked.

"He's off on another mission somewhere."

Sarah shook her head with a tired sigh. Alex Forrest-Slade and she had many conversations over the years regarding Alex's husband. Sarah felt a bit of guilt about it since Chuck and she were the ones to encourage Jimmy to become a spy. They never realized he would be so good at it. To say nothing about becoming the CIA's top agent for over two decades; a real-life James Bond. Although to hear Jimmy tell it, one would have thought he was a cross between Inspector Clouseau and Maxwell Smart.

_Hell, that'd be an improvement,_ he undoubtedly would have said.

In a way, Jimmy was responsible for their trip to Washington. Chuck was almost ready to present his latest project to the government; his final one, in fact. He had been working on this project for the last nine years. In reality, his family had been working on it for six decades, going all the way back to his father, Stephen. But the project would reach its conclusion this week.

After that, Sarah and he would begin planning for their retirement from Carmichael Industries.

Even though they never pressured them at any point about it, both of them hoped either John or Emma…ideally both…would run the company someday. John was still deciding his major for college, but business and law were near the top of his list. Emma wasn't quite the brainiac her older brother was, but she was quite intelligent when she applied herself. She had her mother's skills, although how she developed Aunt Carina's mischievous streak was a mystery and a source of constant aggravation for her parents.

"Poor Alex," Chuck said with a knowing laugh. "I guess that's what you get when you decide to marry a co-worker."

"Really, Chuck?" Sarah said with a raised eyebrow.

He quickly backtracked. "But you and I are different, because…well…"

"Waiting…" Sarah teased as her mouth formed into a wide grin.

Chuck looked at his watch, even though he didn't have one on. "Oh, look at the time. We don't want to keep Alex waiting."

Sarah pressed a button on her bracelet. "Secure," was the curt reply from the bodyguards outside of their room, a gift from Casey and Verbanski. Chuck went to the door and held it open for Sarah. She stepped outside.

She caught a glimpse of their two actual bodyguards lying on the ground near the end of the hallway. Before she could react, a dart hit her in the back of the neck. Chuck stood in shock at seeing Sarah hit as another dart hit him in his sleeve. Both of them slumped to the ground unconscious. Two other men emerged from the elevator in masks and black clothing to join their similarly-clad partners. They picked up Chuck and Sarah, carrying them to the freight elevators and down to a waiting van.

_**Langham Hotel, London**_  
><em><strong>March 19, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>12:20 AM GMT<strong>_

John sat on the chair in stunned silence. He was having difficulty breathing. The mere presence of so many of his parents' friends in the room was a shock in and of itself. But discovering his parents were missing was overwhelming him.

Samantha poured a glass of water from a bottle on the table and brought it to him. She knelt down so she was at eye level with him.

"John?" she began softly.

"My-my…parents? What…"

He tried to take a sip of the water but his hand shook so badly, he was having difficulty holding the glass steady. Samantha put her hand over his to calm him. He breathed in and out a few times in an attempt to collect himself. It didn't have much of an effect.

"What is going on? Who took them? Why were they kidnapped? Why are all of you here?"

He then glared at Samantha. "You…were just pretending…?"

"John," Alex began and waited until he turned towards her. "There is a lot to explain. Your parents would have told you everything eventually. The last thing any of us ever wanted was to tell you like this."

"Emma," John blurted out. "Is she in danger, too? She's all alone…"

"She's fine, John," Jimmy replied. "Remember, she was originally going with Uncle Morgan and his wife to Cancun for Spring Break? They were going to keep an eye on her while your parents were in D.C.? They're still doing that, only now they'll stay at a beach house the government owns. There's security everywhere; she's better guarded than the President right now."

"But…why? Why were they kidnapped? What would anybody want with them? Do they want money? Why can't we go to the police?"

"It's not about money," Casey replied quietly. "It's about who they are. Who...all of us are."

"What are you talking about?"

"Long ago, before you were born, all of us were covert spies for the government. And so were your parents."

John sat for a moment before breaking out in a disbelieving cackle. "Oh, come on! Give me a break. I mean, Aunt Alex maybe. She's, like, an advisor to the President, so that I can see. But my parents? And all of you? Spies? License to kill, vodka martinis, the whole thing?"

"It's true, John," Jimmy replied. "In fact, it's how your parents met."

"No, that's not right. Mom tells the story to Emma all the time because she thinks it's so romantic. Dad worked as a Nerd Herder in the Buy More, and Mom brought her phone in one day to be repaired. Then she watched Dad help some father with his daughter's ballerina recital?"

"Well, that part did actually happen. The part she didn't tell you is that she was sent to find out information regarding your dad. The phone was just her way of approaching him."

"Your father came across an email he wasn't supposed to see," Carina continued. "Sarah and Casey were both sent to investigate. Your mother was an agent in the CIA, and Casey was an operative for the NSA. Eventually it was decided both of them would work closely with your father to keep him protected. I worked for the DEA back then, and your parents even helped me apprehend a fence for an arms dealer. But I knew back then Sarah was falling for him. And your father…well, Sarah was certainly the best thing to happen to him as well. It didn't happen overnight, but eventually they fell in love and got married."

"Wait, so you don't work for a clothing manufacturer?" Carina shook her head at John's question. He turned to Jimmy. "And you don't work for the Nationals?"

Jimmy quietly laughed. "I thought I gave myself away when the Cubs finally won the World Series in 2024. But no, Alex and I are the only ones who still work for the government. Twenty years ago, all of us were together. Your family was the reason for it, all the way back to your grandfather."

"Really? Was Grandpa Jack a spy, too?"

"Oh, no. Your other grandfather, the one you never knew. Grandpa Stephen."

"But…Dad told me Grandpa worked for a computer company a long time ago. He even showed me pictures with his business partner. Very dry sense of humor? Use to trip and fall a lot? Great golfer? Loved to take vacations with his family?"

"Ted Roark. Well, your grandfather created something back in the 1980s that sort of started the ball rolling. It was called the Intersect."

"The Intersect?"

Jimmy looked at Casey and Alex, who both nodded in consent. "The Intersect was an idea for a computer system that your grandfather created. It was designed to quickly analyze all of the data that was coming from agents in the field and chatter heard through all types of communications at Fort Meade. It was designed to mine for patterns in the data so we could stop threats to the country before they happened. Your grandfather designed the code to convert the data into subliminal images. If you saw an image, you knew the secret hidden in it. That email your father received was the entire set of images. He saw them and knew every piece of information the government possessed. I'm sure you can understand why Sarah and Casey had to protect him."

"So…Dad became a spy because of all of this information he suddenly knew?"

"Exactly," Casey replied. "The amount of information he knew was endless. He saved this country more times than I can count. Your father's a bona fide hero, John. So is your mother."

"They are?" John couldn't wrap his head around the concept of his parents being anything other than those two people who owned a computer company and made sure he did his homework.

He took another sip of the water, grateful he was much calmer, even though everything he was told was still overwhelming. "So are they still spies or something?"

"No," Alex quickly replied. "They left the government around the time they got married and decided to stay out, despite repeated begging and pleading by my predecessor. The government tried to find another person to download the Intersect into their mind, but only one other person was able to handle it as well as Chuck. That was James."

Jimmy nodded in agreement. "I was the first person your grandfather tried the Intersect on over forty years ago, back when I was still in college. That version of it failed, but then your father found me one day at the Buy More and discovered I was a former Intersect. After a shakeup in the Agency back in 2012, I was given the latest version of the Intersect at that time and used it in the field until nine years ago."

"Nine years ago?"

"A terrorist group came very close to introducing a biological weapon into the water systems of New York City. The Intersect helped me put the clues together to figure out what group was doing it and where. The CIA stopped them."

"You mean _you_ stopped them," Alex replied with a tinge of anger in her voice. "And broke your back in three places as a result."

Jimmy rolled his eyes. "OK, it wasn't the smartest thing I ever did, but what else could I have done?"

"Something besides diving off the top of a twenty-story aqueduct just to retrieve it?" Alex shook her head in frustration before turning back to John. "He was lucky to survive. He spent three months in the hospital."

"And another two months sleeping on the couch," Jimmy muttered with a sideways glare at Alex.

"Anyway," Casey snarled, annoyed Jimmy and Alex were arguing at a time like this. "It was decided it was too dangerous to let one of the government's best weapons stay in a human being like that."

"OK, is this the part that involves my parents?" John asked as his patience started to wane.

"We think whoever kidnapped your parents is after this," Verbanski replied as she showed him a small device. John studied it carefully.

"It's an iComm. Anybody can get one of these," he said in confusion.

Verbanski shook her head. "Actually, it's a gComm, issued to those in our intelligence community and the higher-ups in most government agencies. It's basically an iComm but several generations ahead. Your father invented it."

John was flabbergasted. He thought his father simply designed computer games. He was the inventor of one of the most popular tech items in the world?

"Why…why didn't my parents tell me?"

"To protect you," Casey replied.

"Protect me? From what?"

"After they left the field, neither of them wanted to be involved with the government in any way, and they wanted to keep you and your sister away from danger as much as possible. We respected their wishes. That's why you never found out what any of us really did."

"Me being the exception, of course," Alex added. "But that couldn't be avoided because I'm in the public eye a lot. I found out about what your father was working on and asked for his help. They didn't want to do it, but my story about the little stunt James pulled convinced them to help."

"But why sell the invention to Apple? Was that to protect us, too?"

Jimmy nodded. "The CIA gave his company the money to perfect the gComm for their use, and then they sold a watered-down version of the specs to Apple. They mass-produced it, and your family was able to stay out of the spotlight. Your mom and dad just had to sit back and watch the money roll in."

"And that brings us to now," Carina said. "Your father was putting the finishing touches on a Comm unit powerful enough to be its own Intersect. With an IntComm, every agent would have all the data they would ever need to do their job successfully."

"So, someone kidnapped them to get their hands on this new IntComm unit?"

"That's what we're worried about," Alex replied somberly. "And whoever it is has to be someone within the CIA."

John's blood pressure shot up fifty points at that thought. "Why?"

"Only a few people in the Agency knew your parents were coming to Washington. And the only people from Casey's security firm who knew were the two bodyguards, and both of them are dead."

John breathing got shorter and more strained. Samantha, who had been by his side the whole time, gently rubbed his back to try and calm him.

"John?" she said softly. "Are you OK?"

"They're going to kill them…they're going to kill my parents," he said as he bordered on hyperventilation. Suddenly he shot out of the chair. "We have to stop them! You can't let this happen!"

"John!" Samantha shouted as she steadied him. "That's why everybody is here. They're going to get your parents back. But we need your help."

Samantha gently guided John back into the chair. "What…what can I do? I'm not even out of high school yet!"

"Our theory is the kidnappers will try and contact you, thinking you'll give up the IntComm in order to get your parents back," Casey answered. "But they don't know you have us backing you up."

"We can't call the police or the FBI or anybody?"

"If we do, the mole in the Agency would find out," Alex replied. "I'm going to head back to D.C. to find out who the mole is. While I'm doing that, Casey, Gertrude, James, Carina, and Samantha are going to help you. They'll get you ready and help you deal with the people who kidnapped your parents."

"None of us wanted this to happen, John," Carina said. "But I think I speak for everybody here when I say we'd give up our lives to protect your mother and father. And you and Emma as well."

John slowly looked around the room. The expression on everyone's face conveyed agreement with what Aunt Carina said.

His voice was barely above a whisper. "What do you want me to do?"

Casey handed him a gComm similar to the one Verbanski had. "This unit is programmed to intercept both the phone at your house and your iComm. We wait for them to call and attempt to get a lock on where they are. Hopefully, they'll call from the same location where they have your parents."

John looked at the gComm in his hand as fear permeated his entire being. "OK, should I wait for them to call?"

"Why don't you try to get some rest," Alex replied as gently as she could. "We'll be staked out in the rooms on either side of you. If there's an emergency, just hit the function and 9 keys, and we'll come in immediately."

"And if you need to talk to us, you just have to ask," Jimmy added. "Anything you need, no matter how small it is. You got the kitchen sink thrown at you tonight, but we'll get your parents back. That we can promise."

Casey and Verbanski went to the door, Casey gripping John's shoulder as he went by. Alex and Jimmy followed. Carina and Samantha exited into the hallway, but Samantha stopped and turned around to look at John, who hadn't moved an inch.

"Is it OK if I stay for a few minutes, Mother?" Samantha asked. "I…think I owe him more of an explanation."

Carina turned and looked at John. She wasn't sure exactly what Samantha would discuss with John, but having been in her situation before, she had a few highly-educated guesses. In a way, she was jealous of her daughter for not being the cold-hearted man-eater she was when she was a young agent. She nodded her consent.

Samantha walked back inside and gently closed the door. She sat on the bed and faced John. After several moments, he looked up. The confusion and fear on John's face was accompanied by a new emotion: anger and resentment.

"I deserve that glare you're giving me right now," Samantha said quietly, unable to look John in the eyes.

"So, tonight was all a setup? Just wanted to see if I was a tough guy?"

"They weren't sure if you could handle yourself under pressure. There's no way to know that unless you actually experience it."

"Great, I beat up someone just to prove a point?"

"The guy who played the robber works for MI-5. That's his job: to take a beating like that. He works in their physical training section." Samantha looked at her iComm. "By the way, he sent me a text. He said you've got a really good punch and great technique, but never stand directly over someone unless you know they're unconscious. They might sweep a hand or leg and knock you to the ground. Always maintain distance until you attack."

"I'll keep that in mind," John replied acidly. "So, Michelle's job was just to get Connor away from us? Are they on an actual date or do we owe her some money now?"

"Michelle is NOT a prostitute," Samantha replied, her voice rising to dangerous octaves. "She's an agent in her second year of training with MI-5. She could beat the shit out of both of you and not get a single hair out of place. So could I."

John stared at her momentarily before his posture softened. "Sorry," he said meekly.

"She actually volunteered for this assignment. She thought Connor was cute, and honestly, he was a step up from all of those emo rockers with the Mohawk hairdos and tattoos all over their bodies she dated since high school."

"Wait, Connor. What happened to him?"

"Exactly what it looked like. They went out to have some fun. Except in the morning, he's going to high tail it back to America."

"What would make him do that?"

"Casey did some research. Didn't Connor apply for a scholarship somewhere and get put on the waiting list?"

"Notre Dame. He wanted to be in pre-Law there, but he needed a scholarship. His dad had no interest in paying all that money for a school across the country when there were plenty of schools in California."

"Well, Casey called in a few favors, and Connor got that scholarship, only he has to show up at the campus by Monday to fill out the paperwork. So he'll be hopping on the first flight back to Los Angeles in the morning."

"All of that just to get him out of the way?"

"Your parents' friends seem to think it's worth it. Given the stories I've heard about them in the last day, I can understand why."

"And what about you? Was that just about doing your job tonight?"

Samantha looked down at the ground and remained quiet. After several moments, she raised her head. "When I was twelve, my mother told me everything. How she used to be an agent, some of the missions she was on, even some of the guys she had to seduce. It turned out, I was the result of one of those seductions."

John stared at her in complete shock but said nothing. Samantha continued. "She was trying to get some information from a computer analyst working for a company here in London. It turned out he didn't know anything, but she told me she was shocked when she found out she was pregnant. She considered terminating the pregnancy, but something in the back of her mind, I don't know what, made her decide to have me instead. She told me she kept wondering if she made the right decision. Even when I was born, she said it didn't feel real to her. She felt like she was still a spy. She was afraid to get close to my father and to me."

"So what happened?"

"When I was two, I had gotten very sick, and my mother was panicking. My father tried to get to her, but London is always gridlocked. She was going crazy, but then she said something snapped in her mind. Suddenly she knew exactly what to do. She called the doctor, told him exactly what my symptoms were, and the doctor forwarded the information to a clinic within walking distance of our flat. Then…this is the part I'll never forget…she said I was lying in the little crib at the clinic with small tubes inside my nose to help with my breathing. I opened my eyes and saw her. And I reached for her. She...she leaned down into the crib, and I touched her cheek. She said right then is when she knew. She knew she wanted to be a mother and raise me. No more being a spy for her. She wanted a family. My parents got married six months later."

Samantha took in a deep breath. "When I was old enough, she said she didn't want to hold any secrets from me; that I deserved to know the truth about her. So she told me everything, even things she wouldn't tell my father. She told me a story about Casey and her in Prague and how she used to get under Alex's skin by making some not-so-subtle moves on her then-boyfriend Jimmy. But what I remember the most is how she spoke of your parents, how she was always jealous of them. How both of them always looked out for her, no matter what she may have done to them.

"When Casey told her they had been kidnapped and might have to tell you everything, my mother asked me to help. Had it been anybody else, I probably would have said no. But the way she loves your parents, the way everybody does, I knew I had to do this for her.

"You asked me if I was just doing my job tonight. Well, part of it was that. And part of it was helping my mother. But most of it was thinking if there were two people who love each other as much as your parents do, they would probably have a son I would want to meet. That person would have to be someone special."

A smile came across her face. "I've never been more right in my life. Tonight...maybe it was my job to get you back to the hotel, but...it felt like something more than that."

She slowly stood. "Try to get some rest. I don't mean to put any more pressure on you, but this is just getting started. We will get your parents back."

Samantha started for the door but stopped where John was sitting. She bent down and kissed him on his cheek. "If you need to talk to someone closer to your age, you can call me," she said quietly into his ear before she straightened up and exited the room.

John slowly turned towards the door, but nobody was there. He took off his shoes before falling into his bed. The fear that had subsided while he talked to Samantha boiled to the surface once again, and his body involuntarily curled itself up into a fetal position as tears streamed down his cheeks. He stayed that way for a long time before exhaustion finally won out. He fell asleep in the same clothes he wore to the tavern.

He was awakened five hours later by the ringing gComm.


	3. A Cold Dose of Reality

_Hi there. Just adding the latest chapter to the story. I'm trying to go at a slower pace, not crowding the chapters up with too much material. As a result, something I had planned to have in this chapter was pushed back to the next chapter. A few things in this story will rely on how the last few episodes of Chuck go. (and how quickly I get over my depression about the show ending)_

_Like several of the stories I've done, it seems like the ideas hit me all at once. I wrote the majority of this chapter in one sitting, then went back and cleaned up a few items to make it more readable._

_Once again, thanks to **BDaddyDL** for giving me a few ideas, including a reference you'll see at the beginning of the next chapter. Also, thanks to everyone who has reviewed this story thus far. Authors always appreciate when you leave comments. _

_Thanks for reading!**  
><strong>_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Langham Hotel, London<br>**__**March 19, 2033  
><strong>__**6:15 AM GMT**_

John bolted up in his bed at the sound of the ringing gComm. His head darted back and forth taking in the room before the events of last night came crashing down and he remembered what was going on. He almost fell out of bed in surprise when he heard the pounding on his hotel room door. He opened the door to find Casey, Verbanski, Jimmy, Alex, Carina, and Samantha champing at the bit to get in. All of them entered, Casey and Jimmy carrying a slew of equipment with them.

"It's ringing, it's ringing," John said as his breath came hard and fast.

"OK, OK," Samantha replied as Casey and Jimmy quickly laid out their computer equipment. "This is what we've been waiting for. Just relax. They'll guide you through it."

Jimmy pulled John towards a chair he placed next to the gComm and handed him a set of headphones similar to the ones Casey was passing out to everyone else.

"OK, just ask them who they are, answer their questions honestly, then when they set the ransom, demand proof of life," Jimmy told him. "And obviously don't tell them about us."

Casey looked at everyone to make sure they were ready and then pointed at John to answer the gComm.

"Hello?" John asked, completely unable to get the fear out of his voice.

"Mr. John Bartowski, our organization has taken your parents into its custody. They will remain unharmed and be released provided you follow our directions to the letter."

Jimmy ran the trace through the voice recognition software on his computer, which looked like an old-school laptop but was twenty times as powerful as even a gComm. Casey began his signal trace on a similar laptop.

"Who are you?" John asked the voice.

"That is irrelevant to our discussion. But if it helps, you may call me Mr. Joshua."

Jimmy rolled his eyes, and John gave him an odd look. _I'll tell you later_, Jimmy mouthed to him.

"Why did you take my parents, Mr. Joshua?"

"Our purpose will be explained momentarily." John shuddered at the cold, professional detachment of Mr. Joshua's voice. "For now, let me advise you to not contact the police, the media, or anybody else. Do not tell your friends or your relatives. Do not even tell your sister, Emma."

Casey's eyes widened as his tracing program located the signal. He quickly wrote something on a piece of paper and held it up.

_San Antonio, Texas._

Jimmy quickly jumped out of the way to allow Alex to type in an authorization for a Homeland Security directive to the HBT unit of the San Antonio Police. She held up three fingers, indicating the HBT team would be at the location in three minutes.

"OK, I won't contact anybody," John told Mr. Joshua. "What do I have to do to get my parents back?"

"Their company, you may not know this, produces more than just computer games. They've created some of the most advanced communication devices in the world. The one we are interested in they are giving to the government to work with a very sophisticated computer program called the Intersect."

John looked up, uncertain what to say. _What's the Intersect?_ Jimmy mouthed to him.

"What's the Intersect?" John repeated to Mr. Joshua.

"Irrelevant to your current situation. Your job for the moment is to recover the Comm unit your parents were developing for the government. You have twenty-four hours to retrieve it. Once you have it, you will contact us, and we will give you further instructions."

"How…how am I supposed to retrieve it? I don't even know where it is!"

"I suggest you start making discreet inquiries into your parents' company. I'm sure if you do enough research, you can find out where it is."

John looked up, wondering what he should say next. _Proof of life_, Casey mouthed to him.

"Wait, wait. Why should I do anything if I don't even know my parents are alive? I want you to prove you have them and they're unharmed."

"Mr. Bartowski, perhaps I have not made our organization's purposes clear. We are looking for a device your parents invented, and you are going to retrieve it for us. If you need proof, should I cut off your father's foot and mail it to you so you can identify the Converse Chuck Taylor shoes he wears every day? Or perhaps I'll send you your mother's arm so you can see the little charm bracelet she wears, a gift your father gave her that your grandmother once owned. Yes, we know all about your family, and we could easily kidnap your little sister from her trip if we so desired. So I suggest you take our demands seriously."

John shook in fear for a few seconds before a thought crossed his mind. He made a 'cut' gesture across his throat, and Casey muted the gComm.

"What?"

"Why is he keeping us on for so long?" John asked. "If they're as smart as they say they are, wouldn't they assume I was somehow trying to trace them?"

Casey, Jimmy, and Alex stared at each other for a brief second. "They are," Casey said in a panic as Alex got on the computer to send an abort to the San Antonio Police.

Casey un-muted the gComm. "Mr. Bartowski?" Mr. Joshua's voice called out.

"I'm here, I'm here," John replied.

"Yes, and you are also not alone. Despite our insistence that you do not contact anybody, it appears you already have. I'm sure the thought crossed your mind why I had little problem staying on the line with you. Surely, someone would have traced this call by now. But of course, it is also possible we would anticipate that. After all, your parents know some very talented, very connected people. Perhaps they are sitting with you right now. In that case, all of you will now know what the result will be if you do not cooperate."

There was nothing but dead silence for several seconds. Suddenly, an explosion came across the comm lines loud enough for everyone to wrench off their headphones.

Everyone stopped in shock for a moment. Alex and Casey tried to get through to the San Antonio Police while Jimmy prompted John to put his headphones back on.

"Well, Mr. Bartowski, twelve members of San Antonio's HBT unit have just paid the price for your deception. And it makes us wonder if you really want your parents back. We'll call if we feel you'll cooperate. In the meantime, let your conscience wrestle with the fact you've just murdered twelve people."

The line went silent. John tore the headphones off of his ears and started hyperventilating.

"Oh, God," he whispered. "No…please…"

"John…" Alex began.

"No!" John staggered out of his chair and fell towards the door. "Get away from me! Stay away!"

He threw the door open and bolted out of the room. Samantha ran out the door and chased him down the hallway.

"John, stop!" Samantha sprinted down the hallway and got in front of John as he tried to get to the elevators. He tried to push past her, but she grabbed him and held him up against the wall.

"Please listen to me!" Samantha pleaded.

"I killed them," John said as he still had difficulty trying to breathe. "I killed those people. They're dead…they're dead, I did that…"

"No you didn't!" John tried to break away from Samantha, but she had an iron grip on him. "You did exactly what you needed to do. There's no way you could have known they would do that."

"I can't…I can't do this…"

"Yes you can. They won't harm your parents; otherwise they would have done that already. They need that IntComm, so we have time. We'll figure this out."

Samantha steered him to a bench in the hallway. She held him in her arms. "All of us were shaken up by that, John. I was on the brink of losing it myself. And everybody else? You could tell they were traumatized, and they've been dealing with this most of their lives. Most people would have folded if they had to deal with what you have in the last twelve hours. But you can get through this. All of us are here to help you."

Samantha took John's face in her hands so he was looking directly into her eyes. "Can you trust us? Can you help us?"

He stared at her for a moment. Despite how overwhelmed he was, he gave a gentle nod. Samantha pulled him to her and held him tightly.

"We'll get your parents back, John," she whispered gently into his ear. "We'll get them back."

They sat there for several moments holding each other. There was something comforting about it for both of them. John never realized before now how shielded he had been from the real world. The closest he came to anything tragic was when Grandma Emma passed away four years ago from a long illness. Nothing, however, compared to what he had been put through in the last few hours. He was having a hard time handling it, but he couldn't even contemplate how bad it would have been had everybody not been here with him.

He had never given much thought to it before now, but no matter what happened to him in life, there were always people around he could rely on, whether it was his father helping him with calculus or Uncle Casey picking him up from Pop Warner football practice when his parents were stuck at work or Uncle Jimmy renting two skyboxes at the Staples Center for his tenth birthday and impressing John's friends by getting everybody mini-basketballs signed by every member of the Lakers. He remembered his mother coming into his room to hold him whenever he had nightmares or was awakened by a bad thunderstorm. Sometimes he would wake up in the morning, and his mother would still be in his bed holding onto him, making sure nothing bad would happen to him.

One of his teachers once told him, when he thought his parents were being insufferable and too demanding, something Mark Twain once said that resonated with him. _When I was sixteen, my father was the most ignorant man in the world. By the time I reached 21, I was surprised at how much he had learned in five years._ John chuckled at that thought, given he just beat Twain by three years.

John and Samantha turned when they heard someone gently clearing their throat. Jimmy was standing a few feet down the hallway from them.

"Alex got in contact with the San Antonio Police," Jimmy said quietly. "Their team got out. One person is in the hospital with severe third-degree burns and two others broke limbs when they were thrown clear of the warehouse where the signal was traced. But nobody was killed."

Both John and Samantha relaxed at that thought. "We just have to wait for them to call again," Jimmy continued. "But they will. In the meantime, I'm going to take Alex to meet her plane back to D.C. Casey, Gertrude, and Sam's mother will stick around here to see if you need anything."

"Jimmy," Carina called out from behind him. Everybody turned to look down the hall. "Michelle just called. Connor is on his way back to the hotel."

"What?" John was shocked.

Jimmy checked his watch. "Dammit, 7 AM. That's when Connor was supposed to get the call. He must have taken a taxi back to the hotel."

"We're cleared out of the room," Carina said.

"OK, you two get back in there and send Connor on his way," Jimmy said as he bolted down the hallway to get out of sight.

John and Samantha ran down the hallway back to the room. Samantha slammed the door and kicked off her shoes.

"What the hell are we supposed to…" John started but froze in shock as Samantha took her blouse off and quickly stepped out of her skirt.

"Gawk later, will you?" Samantha said in a rush as she ripped John's shirt open and went to work on his belt. "He thinks we were having sex last night, remember?"

She pulled the blanket out on the bed as John tried to take his socks off. He was having too much difficulty keeping up. Both of them heard Connor's voice down the hallway.

"You're too slow!" Samantha said with a growl. She grabbed his arm and pushed hard, tripping him over her leg and onto the bed. She pulled his pants off in one fell swoop and tossed them on the floor. She then jumped on top of him and grabbed the blankets to cover them.

An alarm bell went off in her head. "Oh shit," Samantha said as she quickly unhooked her bra and threw it on the floor in the open. She then reached down to remove John's boxer shorts and threw them on the floor as well just as they heard the beep from the door lock. She pretended to sleep in John's arms and John took the hint, closing his eyes.

"I just got some…satisfaction…" Connor sung as he opened the door. "John, you'll never guess what…"

Connor went silent as he saw Samantha asleep on top of John. "OK, you can guess some of it," he whispered.

"Shhhh!" John hissed. "What are you doing?"

"Stud muffin!" Connor whispered in triumph at John. "Told you we'd have a good time."

"Why are you here?"

"I just got a call. I got that scholarship to ND," Connor tried to keep his enthusiasm in check in order to not wake Samantha. "But they need me in South Bend by Monday to fill out everything. I gotta get back to L.A. Dude, I'm so sorry to bail on you like this, but you look like you're in good hands already."

"Great, Connor. Congratulations. Do you mind?" John said as he gestured to the sleeping Samantha.

"No prob. Let me get my stuff." Connor quickly grabbed his rolling suitcase and checked to make sure he had everything. "So spill, man. How was last night? I want details."

Samantha gently moaned in the bed. She lifted her head slightly and started feasting on John's neck. She started kissing down his chest without opening her eyes, leaving Connor in wide-eyed shock.

"Oh, I guess last night isn't over yet. Don't let me interrupt her," Connor said as he gave a quick wave to John and exited the hotel room. Samantha popped her head up from under the blankets.

"Sorry. He didn't look like he wanted to leave, so I had to…"

"No, no I got why you…you did that," John stammered. Both of them shared a rather awkward moment of silence. "And…I'm sorry about…that," John said quietly with an increasingly red face.

"Sorry for what?"

"That," he repeated.

Samantha was confused for a moment until she moved her thigh and felt what was against it. "Oh, that?" John lay back in the bed in further embarrassment. Samantha smiled and turned his face to her. "Uh, John? First, I'm lying naked on top of you. I'd be more worried if nothing happened. And second, believe me; you have nothing to be sorry for."

"We should…we should probably get dressed," he barely managed to eke out.

Samantha nodded and got out of the bed. She slipped back into her skirt and put on her blouse. She gathered the rest of her clothes and noticed John still lying in the bed and looking away from her.

"What are you doing?" she asked with a smile.

"I'm letting you…get dressed," John quietly replied without looking in her direction.

Samantha laughed. "We just went through all of that, and you still have every intention of being chivalrous? I think your parents did too good of a job raising you."

She gently touched John's arm. "Call me if you need anything, OK?" She walked to the door. "And John?"

"Yes?" John turned his head to the door. Samantha threw open her blouse. He quickly looked away with a small growl.

"I'm going to loosen you up one way or another before you have a heart attack," she said with a mischievous lilt in her voice as she exited.

_**Unknown Location**_  
><em><strong>March 18, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>9:00 AM<strong>_

Sarah slowly opened her eyes and immediately winced at the painful headache she had. She blinked a few times to clear her vision and looked around. She was on some sort of bed with Chuck lying next to her, who was still asleep. She looked down to find both of them in the same clothes they had on in the hotel. The room looked like the type found in a mid-range hotel, only the windows were sealed and blackened so there was no way to tell what time of day it was.

"Chuck…" she gently shook her husband. After a moment, he slowly opened his eyes and winced in exactly the same way she did a moment ago.

"God, my head hurts," Chuck muttered.

"Damn tranq darts," Sarah replied as both of them slowly sat up in the bed. Sarah checked him to make sure he wasn't harmed otherwise. "I wonder who captured us."

"And why," Chuck added. Both of them stood up.

"They searched us," Sarah said as she checked for a few items on her person. "My gun is gone and so is my lock pick set." She checked her hair. "They even removed my hairpins. Whoever kidnapped us is definitely not stupid."

Chuck took a look around the room. "It looks like a hotel but there's no phone." He checked the data port. "No connection to the Internet possible. They left the TV, though."

Sarah took the remote and turned the TV on. She started flipping through the channels. "No local TV stations on this." She changed to the Weather Channel. "No local weather, either. There's no way to know where we are, other than somewhere in the United States."

She tried the channel guide. She saw the current day and time. "We've been out for 36 hours."

Chuck saw the bathroom. It was basic in design. "It looks like every hotel bathroom I've ever seen.

Sarah went to take a look. "No towel bar and the bar for the shower curtain is cemented into the wall. Nothing that can be turned into a weapon."

"Look at this," Chuck said as he pointed to a table near the door. On top of it was a large stack of plastic bags. The table sat next to a water cooler. Underneath the table were several sets of nondescript clothing in their size.

"MREs," Sarah replied. "Military Ready-to-Eat meal packages. Still sealed. Our captors wanted to make sure we ate and let us know they weren't planning to poison us." She took a look around. "In fact, I don't even think they'll try to interrogate or torture us."

"Are you sure?" Chuck asked.

"Everything in here indicates we'll be in this room for a while with no visitors. They don't want to harm us, and why would they let us sleep for 36 hours if they wanted something specifically from us?"

"Then what do they want?"

Sarah sighed in frustration. "The IntComm. It has to be."

"How would they even know about it?"

"I don't know. But Alex must have everybody on this by now. There's no way she would believe we blew her off for dinner the other night."

Chuck slowly walked back to the bed and sat down on it. His head dropped into his hands. "I thought we were done with this. I never wanted to drag you back into that life. We worked so hard to leave it behind us, and then I had to listen to Alex's damn sob story about Jimmy…"

"Chuck, stop," Sarah replied as she sat down next to him. "That was the right decision. We were trying to save lives, and we thought we were doing it in the best way possible for all of us."

She took his hand. "We've been in situations like this before. And we've always prevailed. You know Alex will bring in Jimmy, Casey, and Gertrude to help. They'll get us out of this. We've always helped each other. That will never change."

Chuck slowly looked at her and nodded at seeing the confidence in her eyes. "You're right."

He gave her a gentle kiss. "This is one crazy life we carved out for ourselves, isn't it."

Sarah smiled. "I can't deny that. But I wouldn't trade it for anything."

Chuck tenderly ran his hand along her cheek, seeing those crystal blue eyes and that luminous smile he remembered from the day in the Buy More twenty-six years ago that changed his life. He gently pulled her face to his for a longer, more passionate kiss.

Sarah was right. He wouldn't trade one minute of it, either.

_**Langham Hotel, London**_  
><em><strong>March 19, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>12:30 PM GMT<strong>_

John sat back on the bed in his hotel room trying to keep up with everything that had happened. The people who kidnapped his parents still hadn't called. He tried to remember what Samantha told him earlier; that whoever kidnapped them needed the IntComm and that his parents were safe as long as they thought they could get their hands on it.

Someone knocked on his hotel room door, and he went to answer it. Jimmy was waiting for him with a bag in his hand.

"How are you holding up?" Jimmy asked.

"OK, I guess," John replied with almost no enthusiasm.

"Did you eat yet today?" John shook his head. "I didn't think so. And since I'm certain your mother would get on my ass for not making sure you did…"

He handed John the bag. John looked inside to find a sandwich and a bag of chips.

"Salami, capicola, pepperoni, and provolone," Jimmy said.

"Wow, you remembered?"

"There's this sandwich shop on Portabello Road I found a few years back. The owner is a riot. Alex has kept on my ass all these years about eating healthier, but I figured I wasn't going to hold you to that here. Especially given what you're going through."

"Where is everybody else?"

"Samantha and her mother are over at MI-5. We're supposed to go over there when they call. Casey and Aunt Gertrude are checking with their sources to see if they know anything. Aunt Alex will probably be landing in D.C. within the hour and she'll head right to her office to find out who the mole is in the CIA."

John poured a glass of water from the bottle in the room and sat down on the bed. "Why did that guy call himself Mr. Joshua? Did you recognize the name?"

Jimmy shook his head with a knowing chortle. "It's from an old 80's movie called _Lethal Weapon_. Mr. Joshua was the bad guy. You have nothing to worry about…unless one of us talks about being too old for this shit."

John smiled. "So, a Cubs fan? I should have guessed. I knew Aunt Alex was from Philadelphia, and Mom said she was as mad as she had ever seen her when the Cubs won the '24 World Series."

Jimmy smiled. "Yeah, they beat the Phils to win the pennant and I gloated way too much for her liking. But in my defense, we've been waiting for that for well over a century. We finally got to bury the four B's once and for all."

"The four B's?"

"Billy goat, black cat, Bartman, and Ball Five."

"Ball five? Oh right, the blown calls in 2015. So, why pretend to be from the Nationals? I would have thought you'd kill to pretend you worked for the Cubbies."

"That was to make it plausible Alex and I would live in D.C. Before we got married and Alex took the job working for the President, we were traveling all over the world on missions. We became the best spy team in the business, just like your parents and Casey were when your dad had the Intersect."

John fell silent. He took a small bite of his sandwich, but Jimmy could tell the stress of the last twelve hours had gotten to him. "I keep thinking I should have done more this morning. Or said something differently. Or...I don't know."

Jimmy stared at him in disbelief. "Holy crap. Is that what I sounded like when I started out? No wonder your mother always smacked me upside the head."

"What?"

Jimmy gave a dismissive wave. "Long story, you don't want to hear it. You did everything right today, John. None of us expected that to happen. We were lucky we figured it out in time."

"But how do you do it? You've been a spy all this time? For over twenty years? You've always been cool Uncle Jimmy. Nothing ever rattled you. My parents told me you were the craziest person they ever knew. And also the bravest."

Jimmy looked down at the ground. "I haven't always been like this. In fact, when I saw you in the hallway with Sam, I was having a flashback that was chilling me to the bone."

"What are you talking about? I was freaking out in the hallway."

"I know. I was in your situation twenty-four years ago. Only it wasn't a team of cops; it was your Aunt Ellie."

"Aunt Ellie? What does she have to do with it?"

Jimmy exhaled slowly. "Your father found out Grandpa Stephen put the Intersect in me twenty years before. Hell, your father was still in grade school when I got it. A rogue group within the Agency, called The Ring, also found out and tried to capture me. Up until then your parents, Casey, and I had been able to hold The Ring off, although I got injured and ended up in the same hospital where Ellie and Devon worked. Then they took Ellie hostage, and…well, your mother and I were able to rescue her. But, having that happen to Ellie…I snapped. I couldn't handle it. I thought I hurt Chuck's family. I fell apart. What Sam did for you earlier, your mother did for me back then. If she hadn't done that, I…"

Jimmy fell silent for a moment. "Everybody here loves your parents and would do anything for them. That's because they've risked their lives to help all of us. And in my case, they were the first people I ever had in my life who actually gave a rat's ass about me."

"Really?"

John saw a chill go through Jimmy. "I…lost my mother and my sister when I was eight. My father was responsible. Drunk driving. He didn't even bother to raise me. Honestly, the son of a bitch can rot in hell for all I care. But there's no way I'd be where I am today if it hadn't been for your family. And I will do whatever it takes to get your parents back. All of us will."

John took a look at his uncle. It was a little jarring to see him this way because he always competed with Morgan in his mind for the most fun-loving uncle he had. He wasn't surprised Jimmy was a good spy. Given how his parents spoke of him, saving the world on a daily basis sounded like something Jimmy would do. But Jimmy also made sure Emma and he always had fun whenever he visited. When John got his driver's license, Jimmy gave him a luxury SUV as a present, and Emma had a hybrid convertible waiting for her in two years when she would get her driver's license. It was now clear to John that Jimmy was trying to make sure his sister and he had everything he never had. Everyone John knew seemed determined to make sure they had everything in life.

They were interrupted by a call on Jimmy's gComm. "Hello?" Jimmy said. "OK, Case. I'll let him know."

"What's up?" John asked.

"Casey found some information he's going to cross-check with Aunt Alex once she's back in her office. He thinks he figured out where the people who kidnapped your parents got their personnel. If we can find who bankrolled it, we can find who is behind all of this."

Jimmy's gComm beeped once again. He took a quick look at the screen and then went over to the phone in the hotel room. "Please have my car brought to the Lobby, bay C-14. Thank you."

He turned to John. "Better wrap that sandwich up and save it for later. Carina and Sam are ready for us. We have to get over there."

"Ready for what? Where are we going?"

"MI-5 headquarters," Jimmy replied confidently. "It's time to turn you into a spy."


	4. A Little Bit of Mom, A Little Bit of Dad

_Hello. I imagine a lot of you are like me: both excited and depressed to see Chuck conclude its five-year run this week. There are very few shows people invest in so heavily. For myself, **Friends** , **My Boys**, and **Star Trek: The Next Generation** were the only other ones besides Chuck in which I invested so much time and effort. But each of those shows spoke to me in some way. In the case of Chuck, it was its combination of humor, drama, action, and romance (with a kick-ass soundtrack) that kept me interested all this time. Honestly, I don't know how well I managed to write the characters on the show in my fanfics, but I certainly hope I kept true to the spirit of the show._

_By the way, the two schoolteachers mentioned in the chapter were actual schoolteachers I had, and both of them were really good. So thanks Mrs. Adams and Mr. Keane. __A big thanks again to **BDaddyDL** for some of his help on this story. A special shout-out to **Aliveria** for a quote I used in the beginning of the chapter, although I'm not certain they had how I wrote it up in mind when they thought of it. Just taking some humorous license. :-D_

_Anyway, hope you enjoy and please leave reviews._

* * *

><p><em><strong>A204 Highway, London<strong>_  
><em><strong>March 19, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>1:30 PM GMT<strong>_

"A spy?"

John sat in the passenger seat of Jimmy's car. He didn't know what the hell was going on. In the last twelve hours, the life he knew was turned completely upside-down. Anyone would shudder at the thought of their parents being kidnapped. But now he also found out his parents used to be secret agents, as were everyone his parents knew. It sounded crazier than even the craziest movies and TV shows he had ever seen. None of it felt real to him. What they were doing now was beyond comprehension. They were heading to MI-5 headquarters? He was just going to walk into one of the most famous spy agencies in the world…and become an agent?

"As much as I hate to admit it, I'm not a young kid anymore," Jimmy said. "None of us are. We need you, John."

'This is…this is crazy. My parents have been kidnapped, the kidnappers want me to get something to get them back, and you're taking me to British Intelligence? Is this how things usually go?"

Jimmy shrugged. "Pretty much. The world is threatened, we stop it, get some sleep, and do it all again tomorrow."

John was flabbergasted. "How…how have all of you done this for over twenty years?"

Jimmy was silent for a moment before a smile crossed his face. "Well, you know how James Bond slept with all of those different women?" John nodded. "It actually doesn't work that way. Agents think they can be cold-hearted, but those types burn out pretty quickly. Most spies don't sleep around. In fact, the CIA encourages agents to date each other. It certainly leaves less to explain to the Mrs., right? To be a good spy, it really helps if you have a reason for doing what you do. All of us do, even Casey."

"And Aunt Alex is your reason?"

"Now, certainly. But like I told you before, your parents helped me more than anybody did in my life. It's kind of hard not to do your best for someone who does that for you. It's like…you had teachers in school you really liked, right?"

"Mrs. Adams. She was my math teacher sophomore year. And Mr. Keane taught me physics last year. They were really good."

"It's the same for me. Your parents gave me a chance, and I didn't want to let them down."

"But how am I supposed to help? I don't know anything about being a spy. I can't defuse bombs or pilot jet fighters. Not real ones, anyway."

"Well, there's another thing the movies get wrong. Spies don't work on their own. They always have a team. And you'll have a team behind you as well. The best."

Jimmy took a look at John, who was still apprehensive. "Look, I know you didn't ask for this. I sure as hell didn't want this when I started out. I just wanted to be left alone in life and not be bothered. But things don't work out that way. When that happens you have two choices: turn and run away or make things right. And if you want your parents back, there's only one choice. "

"But what if I screw up? You saw what happened this morning. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm not even done with high school yet, and I don't want to get someone killed. What if I…"

"Hey," Jimmy cut him off. "You can't foresee all the consequences of your actions. But that's no excuse to do nothing."

John stared at him in shock. "Did you just quote Hal Jordan?"

Jimmy froze for a moment before rolling his eyes. "Aaah, hell. Is that where I got that? I knew I shouldn't have let your dad drag me to that film. Your old man's definition of a 'guy's night out' really needs some work."

John shook his head. "He made me sit through that movie, too."

Jimmy wasn't paying attention. "I told him Ryan Reynolds is overrated, the director is only good with Bond films, but does he listen? Nooooooo! OK, get it through your head, Chuck! Lying naked with Sandra Bullock does NOT make someone a good actor!"

"What are you talking about?"

Jimmy shook his head clear. "Never mind. Your dad and I just have different tastes in movies. Let's get you over to British Intelligence."

John sat in silence as they negotiated the busy midday traffic around London. Jimmy pulled his car to the guard station at the facility and showed the person on duty his ID. The guard immediately straightened to their full height.

"Mr. Murdock, this is an honor. They're waiting for you inside, sir," the guard said as if he just addressed the Prime Minister. "Sixth floor, room 6-2100, you can leave your car in the blue car park."

"Thank you," Jimmy replied as he drove his car to the designated parking lot. John looked at him in confusion but didn't say anything.

They walked inside the building. The occasional person would greet Jimmy with the name Mr. Murdock, and Jimmy would give a quick 'hello' in response. They walked into the elevators, and Jimmy hit the button for the sixth floor.

"Who is Mr. Murdock?" John asked.

Jimmy smiled. "It's…another one of those things you didn't know about. As far as the world is concerned, Jimmy Slade died in an auto accident 24 years ago. The intelligence community knows me as Roger Murdock."

John stared for a second before a huge grin came across his face. "Roger Murdock? As in, 'I've been hearing that crap ever since I was at UCLA' ?"

Jimmy's smile matched his. "I'm out there bustin' my buns every night…"

"Tell your old man to drag Walton and Lanier up and down the court for 48 minutes," they said together before breaking up in laughter.

"Hey, it could be worse. They could have made you Clarence Oveur," John told him.

"True. Although ironically, I have seen movies about gladiators."

They exited the elevator and walked down the hallway to room 6-2100. John couldn't believe what he saw in front of him.

"What is this place?" John asked in amazement.

Jimmy put a hand on his shoulder. "Johnny, have you ever…hung around a gymnasium?"

_**Office of the Director of National Intelligence**_  
><em><strong>March 19, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>9:30 AM EDT<strong>_

Alex Forrest-Slade gave a quick wave to her secretary and strode purposefully into her office. She retrieved her gComm unit from its charging cradle and put the one she took to London in its place. She hit a button on the gComm.

"Bob, please come upstairs to my office," she communicated to her technical consultant. Her secretary gave a gentle knock.

"Anything you need, ma'am?"

Alex smiled. "Coffee, definitely industrial strength. I'm running on fumes right now. Also, when Bob gets here, hold my calls and give us some privacy, please."

"Yes, ma'am," her secretary replied as she went to get Alex some coffee. She returned as Bob Hume entered Alex's office. Her secretary put the coffee down on her desk and closed the doors behind them.

"What's up?" Bob asked pleasantly.

Alex was never much for Bob's jovial nature, but he was one of the smartest technical people she knew and wasn't afraid to work all hours to solve whatever problem was thrown at him.

"I need a computer search done, and it has to be kept VERY quiet."

Bob furrowed his brow. "How quiet?"

"As in 'lives are on the line' quiet."

"Oh, OK," Bob replied with some trepidation.

"Sift through our flash traffic to see if any group has been moving personnel or purchasing hardware within the last few weeks. Use D.C., London, San Antonio, and Glendale, California as filters. See if you find any patterns."

"How soon do you need this? It's a tall order."

"We're already working against the clock, Bob."

Bob nodded. It wouldn't be the first time his boss told him that. "I'll get on it right away."

"Thank you."

Bob left Alex's office and returned to his office three floors down. He programmed his computers to do the search like his boss requested. As the computers sorted through the information, he sent a message on his iComm. Thankfully it wouldn't be traced in this building; he was in charge of things like that.

_**MI-5 Headquarters, London**_  
><em><strong>March 19, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>2:00 PM GMT<strong>_

John couldn't believe what was laid out in front of him. It looked like a training facility an Olympic athlete would use. What was even more surprising was seeing Carina and Samantha standing there dressed in workout attire.

"What are we doing here?" John asked.

"Since all we can do is wait for them to call back or for Casey or Alex to give us an update, we may as well make the time productive," Carina replied.

She pointed to a door to their right. "You can change in the locker room in there."

Jimmy and John quickly went into the locker room to change into suitable clothing to work out while Carina and Samantha warmed up with some stretching.

"Nice try, Carina," Jimmy said with a tinge of umbrage as John and he emerged from the locker room a few minutes later, both wearing t-shirts and long sweatpants.

"I told you they had clothes for you to change into," Carina replied innocently.

"Yeah, and compression shorts are SO practical for what we're about to do."

Carina shrugged. "Liam's a sweetheart, but he's an executive in a computer company. He works at a desk all day. Sometimes I just like to have something…to look at."

Jimmy was glaring at Carina, but out of the corner of his eye, he caught Samantha trying not to laugh. He was beside himself. "You told her?" he yelled at Carina.

Samantha tried to generate some guilt but failed. "She told me a few…stories," she said with a smirk on her face as lascivious as her mother ever bore while she tried not to stare too far south on Jimmy.

"Well, knock it off. I'm old enough to be your grandfather."

John nudged Jimmy. "Um, technically that's correct, but you're really stretching the math…"

"Not…helping," Jimmy hissed at him. He gestured to the large mat set up in the center of the room. "Can we get started, please?"

Samantha moved to the center of the mat, and Jimmy gestured for John to join her.

"OK, try to attack her," Jimmy said.

John looked at Jimmy in confusion before turning back to Samantha, who stood in the same ready position she had the whole time. He sent a half-hearted punch towards her. Samantha spun on her left foot and kicked high with her right to knock John's arm away. She then landed on her right foot and spun her left foot into the air, making contact with the side of John's head. He staggered to the side and fell down. He tried to get up, but Samantha flew at him, grabbing John's wrist and using her other hand to throw him across the mat. She then dove on top of the prone John, landing on his chest and sent a judo chop towards his neck, stopping it mere inches away.

Jimmy smiled slightly. 'Annnnd, there's lesson #1. Never, and I mean NEVER, underestimate your opponent."

Samantha bounced off of John and offered her hand to pull him up with a huge smile. He looked at her in shock before begrudgingly taking her hand and getting up.

"I told you I could beat the shit out of you," she said as her grin stretched from ear to ear.

"You wouldn't believe the number of people your mother beat up who underestimated her," Jimmy added. "She took out people twice my size."

John stared in disbelief. "You have to be kidding. My mom?"

Jimmy shrugged and stepped onto the mat. He motioned for Carina to step out onto the mat as John and Samantha stood to the side. The two faced each other. Jimmy attempted to throw a punch at Carina. She ducked down, and her hand shot upward to grab his wrist. She pirouetted on her front foot to land two consecutive elbows at Jimmy's chin. She planted her feet and put Jimmy into an arm bar, throwing him across her hip and onto the mat. She then landed on top of him, straddling his waist and pinning Jimmy's arms to the mat.

Jimmy turned to John while still lying on the mat. "See, John? I'm more than twice her weight and she used it against me. You just have to gain leverage on the opponent."

Jimmy turned to Carina. "Nice work," he said and tried to get up. Carina kept him pinned down. "You can let me up now, Carina."

Carina playfully ground against Jimmy and ran her tongue along her lips. "Really? Twenty years and you're still doing that?" he said in exasperation.

"Mother…" Samantha admonished.

Carina let Jimmy go and reluctantly got off of him. "A few more seconds and that would have beaten the compression shorts," she muttered to herself in disappointment.

Jimmy grabbed a pair of blocking pads from a shelf, came to the center of the mat, and motioned for John to join him. "I want you to practice a back spinning kick." He handed John a blocking pad. "The key is to plant your back foot and get yourself turned around fast while keeping focus on the target."

Jimmy motioned for John to hold up the blocking pad and brace himself. Jimmy got into a stance, spun, and nailed the blocking pad dead-on, forcing John to step back a bit.

"OK, you try it," Jimmy said as he took the pad from John and held it up. John set himself, spun, and connected with the pad so hard, Jimmy was knocked back on his ass.

Carina and Samantha were surprised. "He actually knocked you down, Jimmy?" Carina asked. "You're not just playing around?"

Jimmy got up, took a few steps to shake it off, and threw his hands up. "He's a Bartowski alright."

"One thing's for certain, he can learn things quickly. He's got Dad's brains and Mom's brawn," Carina said in agreement.

Jimmy picked up both blocking pads and held them head-high. "OK, John. I want you to alternate left and right. Make sure…"

John executed a perfect spinning kick into one of the pads, switched his stance, and repeated the kick with his other leg into the other pad.

"…like that," Jimmy finished. Carina and Samantha looked on in admiration.

"Are you sure your mom only taught you a few things?" Samantha asked in astonishment.

"Well, Dad made me watch all six _Matrix_ movies," he replied demurely.

Jimmy shook his head. "Why did they reboot that franchise? Frickin' Jaden Smith. Half the talent of his old man and twice the ego."

"Tell me about it," a female voice called out in agreement. Everybody turned to see Casey and Verbanski join them in the gymnasium.

"How's it going in here?" Casey asked.

"Quite well," Carina replied. "John already got beat up by a girl but redeemed himself by knocking Jimmy on his ass a few times."

"Only once," Jimmy growled. "Actually, Case, you have good timing. You're the expert on this next part. This is lesson #2, John."

"What's that?" John asked as Casey walked out to the center of the mat where Jimmy was.

"The bad guys never fight fair…"

Jimmy was cut off by Casey sweeping his leg and tripping Jimmy onto the mat. Casey tried stomp on Jimmy's face with his boot, but Jimmy rolled out of the way. He went after Jimmy again, but Jimmy leaned back and kicked his legs up, landing them squarely on Casey's chest, and knocked Casey to the mat. Both men got up quickly. Casey stepped forward to throw a hook, which Jimmy avoided. Jimmy spun and tried to land a roundhouse kick on Casey, but Casey caught his leg mid-air. Jimmy pushed off with his other foot and brought it across Casey's face to knock him back.

Jimmy glanced over at John, Carina, and Samantha. "And oftentimes, they won't wait to fight you one-on-one."

Verbanski took that as her cue to attack, leaping into the air to land a vertical kick on Jimmy. Jimmy was knocked across the mat but hit the ground on a roll and got right back up. Verbanski tried to throw a punch, but Jimmy ducked down and grabbed her arm to use her own momentum against her and threw her away from him.

"In those situations," Jimmy started as Casey tried to land a kick in Jimmy's gut. He caught it and threw Casey's leg away, sending him off-balance. "Either incapacitate one quickly so they can't fight or back both into some sort of pinch point so they can only attack you one at a time."

Verbanski ran across the mat to attack Jimmy again. Jimmy dropped to the ground and grabbed Verbanski's leg as she went by, flipping her into the air and onto the mat. Casey tried to attack one more time, but Jimmy caught him from his prone position and tossed him over his shoulder onto the mat. Jimmy put his knee on Casey's chest and pinned his arm down with his leg.

"That's how you do it," he said with a smile. He then stuck his pinky finger in his mouth. "Wet Willie," he said mischievously as he stuck the pinky in Casey's ear.

"Get up!" Casey roared. Jimmy stood and Casey got up with a look that would have made most people wet their pants. But a hand on his arm and a smile from Verbanski calmed him.

Everybody turned when they heard the ringing gComm unit. They walked over to it, and John looked to everybody for what to do.

"Just act defeated and accept whatever they say," Casey told him.

John answered. "Hello?" he said weakly.

"Mr. Bartowski, I trust you are now ready to work with us?" Mr. Joshua's voice sounded as cold and detached as it had eight hours ago.

"Yes, just…please, please don't hurt my parents."

"I will call again exactly 24 hours from now. At that time, you are to show me video evidence you have the unit in your possession."

The line went silent. John took a look around to see what they would do next.

Casey exhaled. "Until we get some solid leads, we have to play along." He pointed to John and Samantha. "You two get packed. Slade, talk with the section chief, get us a jet."

"You got it," Jimmy replied and quickly exited the gym.

"John, are you sure this is the best plan?" Verbanski asked. "I don't feel too good about putting Chuck and Sarah's son in the line of fire like this. Maybe Alex will…"

"Time is against us right now. And if whoever did this figures out we're still helping him, they may decide to just kill Chuck and Sarah and cut their losses. We get the IntComm, we can buy Alex some time to figure out who's behind this. Besides, this is the easy part. John and Samantha can do this."

"How can you be so sure?" John asked. "My dad's office must have some sick security."

"It has the best," Casey replied with a gaze of pride. "I designed it."

_**Office of the Director of National Intelligence**_  
><em><strong>March 19, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>1:30 PM EDT<strong>_

Alex Forrest-Slade walked at a brisk pace into her office with a sandwich she proffered from the café in the basement. Ordinarily she would eat at one of the local restaurants at lunchtime, particularly if Jimmy was in town. But she was hip-deep in her search to find who kidnapped Chuck and Sarah.

Her intercom buzzed. "Ma'am? Bob Hume is here to see you," her secretary said.

"Send him in," she replied.

The doors to her office opened, and Bob walked in. He placed his gComm on the worktable and activated the projection unit to display the information he found.

"There hasn't been much activity in the last few weeks. But we do have one possibility." Hume displayed an image on the screen. "Steven Barringer."

Alex nodded. "The Matchmaker. Whatever's going on, they went with one of the best-connected people in the underworld in this country."

"I show a transfer of $300,000 from him to a Colombian drug cartel that has been known to kidnap rich millionaire's kids to get the Colombian army off their backs. But $300,000 is a little high for a kidnapping. You could have someone kidnapped for cheaper."

"Down there, perhaps," Alex replied. "To pull one off in this country requires a little more incentive."

"I also show a transfer of $100,000 to a street gang based out of Dallas that specializes in weapons and explosives. Typically hitting rival gangs, deals gone bad, they even did a raid on an ATFE holding facility."

"Right, I remember that. The AD was on the take and the section chief was the one to take the fall for that. Poor bastard. I told the President this guy was innocent, but it would have been a political mess for him to back down. This gang could have been involved in San Antonio. Less than a five-hour drive from Dallas."

Alex stood. "Pass the information about the Dallas gang to Kristin Collier. Have her coordinate with the FBI and ATFE in San Antonio and see what they turn up. In the meantime, work on the kidnapping aspect. Work backwards through the past 5 days starting from here in D.C. All the way back to the 14th. Any vans paid with cash, weapons sales, the works."

"Who's been kidnapped? That might narrow the search down."

Alex shook her head. "I have to keep that quiet for now. Just do your best."

"No problem," Bob replied before exiting Alex's office and tracking down the deputy director.

_**Glendale, California**_  
><em><strong>March 19, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>8<strong>**_:_00 PM PDT**_

If there wasn't so much on the line, John Bartowski could have gotten used to this.

Taking off from a secured private airfield just outside of London, they made the trip to Los Angeles in just over twelve hours, making one quick stop to refuel in Newfoundland. The Gulfstream 200 was certainly luxurious, and he was finally able to get some sleep. He was still a bit sore from the workout he got today, but he was starting to relax a bit. He even managed to finish the sandwich Jimmy bought for him earlier in the day. He was nervous about breaking into his father's company, but Casey assured him he knew exactly how to get him inside and retrieve the IntComm.

John and Samantha rode in the back of the van Casey and Verbanski acquired from their office and headed to Carmichael Industries. He tried to concentrate on what they were about to do, but he couldn't help but sneak the occasional glance at Samantha, who looked much calmer than he did. He couldn't deny it: she was hot. And knowing everything she had done in her life already…to say nothing about what she was training to be…made her even more irresistible. He was upset with her at first for deceiving him, but that resentment had long since faded. She had a few personality quirks that clearly came from her mother, such as how forward she was, but he got the impression she wasn't quite the tease it sounded like her mother used to be, at least based on Jimmy's aggravated reactions to her. Samantha was, for lack of a better way to say it, a more refined version of her mother. Given how most of the girls in his high school acted, he had to admit he was in new territory.

_Dammit, she caught me._

John was sneaking too many glances at Samantha. He figured she wouldn't be offended, given what happened in their hotel room earlier in the day, but amused by it would have been just as bad in John's eyes. John snuck a look back at Samantha. She was smiling. Not amused, to be certain. More like she was…glad?...John had been looking at her. He wasn't sure if he read her expression right, but at the very least, she didn't mind John checking her out.

The van pulled up to the loading docks of Carmichael Industries. According to the inventory log, the last truck left ninety minutes ago, so the docks were empty for the night. Casey parked the van and moved to the back with Verbanski.

"Here you go," Casey told them as he handed John a small box of supplies. John looked inside. "Start with the contacts," Casey told him

John found the contact lens case in his kit and carefully took out the left contact lens. Verbanski wetted it with saline solution, and John carefully put it in his eye.

"Are these to beat the retinal scanners?" John asked as he put the right contact lens in.

"Correct," Casey replied. That'll take care of the vault. The keycards will get you in the other doors and I'll give you any other directions you might need over your earpieces."

John put the keycards in his pocket as he blinked several times until the contacts felt comfortable. Verbanski handed him something.

"Whoah, wait!" John stared at the gun in his hand. "I don't want…I can't kill…"

"It's a tranq gun," Verbanski replied. "Ten shots in the magazine, and here's a spare clip just in case. You shouldn't encounter any security, but these just knock them out for two hours. They don't cause any other harm."

John nodded in consent. He had that nervous/excited feel he hadn't felt since he took his driver's test two years ago. Granted, there was so much more at stake right now. Barely a day ago, he thought his parents owned a computer company. Now he was about to break into that company to save their lives.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" Samantha asked him gently.

John took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I don't know. I hope so, but what choice do I have? I have to do this to get my parents back."

"Put that out of your mind," Casey replied. "Just focus on the things you can do and not worry about what happens later on. OK? We're right here."

"OK. OK, thanks."

John and Samantha donned their masks. Samantha exited the back door of the van and John followed closely behind. They walked to the door at the end of the docks. John took out one of the keycards and swiped it to open the door. They proceeded inside. The dock area was dimly lit at best, the employees having gone home already. John checked the schematic on the small screen device Casey gave them, and they proceeded across the warehouse floor to the main offices.

Samantha peeked around the corner by the elevators to see if any guards were nearby. Seeing none, she gently pulled John with her to the nearest elevator. John's eyes took extra time to adjust to the light because of the contacts he was wearing. He pressed the button, and they entered the elevator. He pressed the button for the 15th floor, and the security system displayed a message on the monitor asking for a retinal scan. He placed his face in front of the scanning plate and waited for the security system to scan his eyes. The system beeped a positive response, and the elevator began to ascend.

If John was trying his best not to sneak peeks at Samantha before, the skintight leather catsuit she was wearing was making that quite impossible now.

"Why are you wearing that?" John asked.

Samantha turned to him and raised a devilish eyebrow. "You'll find out in a few minutes."

The elevator slowed its ascent as it neared the 15th floor. "Are you ready?" Samantha asked. She waited for a response. "Are you ready, John, or do you want to stare at my ass a little longer?"

That woke John up. "Sorry. Yes, I'm ready. I...shouldn't have been..."

Samantha grinned. "...staring at my ass?" She gestured to her outfit, not minding a bit John was having trouble keeping his eyes on her face. "This getup doesn't exactly out me as a virgin."

The elevator opened on the 15th floor. Samantha peeked out again to see if any guards were nearby. The coast was clear. They made their way down the hallway and turned the corner to the vault. John took his keycard out again and swiped it in the lock. The computer demanded another retinal scan, which he gave it. The computer accepted his identity and the door opened. John started to walk inside.

"Wait!" Samantha hissed as her arm shot out to stop John from entering.

"What's wrong?" John asked.

Samantha took a device from her hip and rolled it into the room. The device opened and began to emit smoke, revealing the reason why Samantha stopped him.

"A laser grid?" John whispered in desperation. "Can we turn it off?"

Samantha shook her head. "It requires retinal scans from at least two executives in the company. Maybe two other people besides your parents can open it. There is an override switch in the junction box at the other end."

"But how do we get to it?"

Samantha smiled as she handed John the equipment she was carrying and removed her mask. "That's why I'm here. Casey and Gertrude had me study the pattern on the flight over."

John took off his mask and stepped back as Samantha concentrated on the pattern of the first set of lasers. She two steps forward and did a backflip over the first set of lasers, immediately ducking down into the splits to avoid being detected by a sweeping laser in the second group. She leaned forward until she was on her stomach, bringing her legs together to move slowly along the floor under the second set of lasers. John couldn't help but admire the view as Samantha slinked her body upward until she was on her knees. She carefully raised herself up on her hands, pausing momentarily for a sweeping beam to pass, and bent her body over the next pair of laser beams, ending in a standing position. She got to the final set, waited for the right moment, and ran at the lasers, diving between two of them as they completed their sweep pattern. She landed on the floor and did a perfect somersault to get to her feet.

She turned to look at John, who quietly applauded as he stood in wide-eyed amazement. She gave him a wink and opened the junction box to disable the laser grid. The beams turned off, and John walked to the back of the vault where Samantha was.

"I'll bet you're regretting being so chivalrous this morning," she teased.

"Hey, I pride myself on being a gentleman. I see how the other guys in my school act, and they never end up with anybody. At least not anybody you'd want to date."

"That's a good point," she replied.

"Are you two done flirting?" Casey quietly growled over their earpieces. "It should be in Box 14. Get a move-on. Take everything with you."

John stepped over to Box 14 and opened it. The IntComm was inside, along with a manual and a few other items. He grabbed everything and placed it in his bag.

"Let's go," he said. John and Samantha walked to the vault door. They gathered the equipment they left at the door.

"Halt!"

John turned in shock at the voice. Two security guards were in front of them. The guard reached for his radio. "We have…"

The guard didn't say anything else as Samantha pulled the tranq gun John had on the back of his belt and fired at the two guards. Both of them fell to the ground from the effects of the darts. John and Samantha quickly put on their masks and ran for the elevators. This time, the elevators wouldn't respond.

"Stairwell," John said quickly. They took off down the hallway to the stairwell. John used his access card to open the door. They made it down one floor before they heard the sound of security guards charging up the stairs. They reversed direction and climbed up to the roof.

"Casey, we're on the roof," Samantha said. "Is there a way off?"

"There's a ladder near the northeast corner, opposite side of the building from the van. We'll drive around."

"Never mind," John said as he turned in that direction. "The guards have us cut off."

"What do we do?" Samantha asked.

John froze momentarily. He then smiled and grabbed her hand. "This way. Uncle Case, we'll be there in a moment."

John and Samantha reached the edge of the roof. He took off his backpack.

"I'm so glad Uncle Jimmy packed this for me," he said as he took out a climbing rope, gloves, and a harness. He quickly slipped on the harness and attached it to the rope. He then tied the rope to a water pipe running along the edge of the roof.

"Have you ever done this before?" Samantha asked.

"All those programs Uncle Casey made me watch on the Military Channel finally pay off," he said with a smile as he put on the gloves and got himself into position. Samantha jumped on his back and wrapped her arms around his neck. John jumped from the building and rappelled down the side, stopping every ten feet to push off and fall again. They landed, and John unhooked the harness from the rope. The van pulled up and Verbanski slid open the side door. John and Samantha leaped inside, and the van sped away into the night.

"Nerd-free offspring," Casey said quietly. "Thank God for that."

"Wait," John said with considerable worry. "They know they had a break-in. Those two guards might be able to identify us."

"That's fine," Verbanski replied. "Whoever kidnapped your parents will think you actually stole the IntComm. If we got away without tipping off anybody, they kidnappers might assume we're still helping you."

"So now what?"

Casey checked his watch. "They'll call in just under eight hours. We'll send them the evidence they want and see what they want to do next. In the meantime, Forrest, Slade, and Sam's mother are setting up the next part."

"What is that?"

"Pay a little visit to Steven Barringer. Forrest has intel that he was running the show for whoever has your parents, John. We're heading to New York."

John sat quietly in the back in the van. Before now, he never thought he led that eventful of a life. He certainly couldn't say that anymore.


	5. First Step Into a Larger World

_Hello. I really wanted to get the next chapter in as soon as possible. I admit it was tough to write this weekend, given one of my all-time favorite shows ended its run. I can't speak for anybody else, but I liked how it ended. I'll be the first to admit not all of the subplots worked in the final season, but nobody can deny everybody gave such a wonderful performance in those final two episodes. They were very emotional and the ending left us with hope that anything was possible between Chuck and Sarah. There is a reference to the ending in this story, so if you haven't seen it, be forewarned._

_Thanks to **BDaddyDL** for reading over this chapter and giving me a killer line to use in the potential John-Samantha relationship. I'm curious to know what you think of this pairing. It sounds a bit cliched that Carina's and Sarah's kids would meet up like this, but somehow this picture of a brash, yet refined, person came to my mind when I was trying to develop a partner for John, and certainly Carina qualifies as brash. But I wanted Samantha to have the benefit of knowing what went right and wrong for her mother so she could learn from it._

_Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter, and please leave reviews. Thanks!_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Pierre Hotel, New York City<strong>_  
><em><strong>March 19, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>10:30 PM EDT<strong>_

Alex took a long draw on her vodka tonic as she waited in her hotel suite for Jimmy and Carina to arrive. She booked a pair of suites for them to use while they waited for Casey, Verbanski, John, and Samantha to break into Carmichael Industries and retrieve the IntComm. She guessed whoever was after the IntComm would compel John to download the Intersect program from the main computers to the IntComm next.

She went to the door when she heard the knock, keeping a hand on the Sig Sauer P250 compact pistol tucked into the back of her skirt.

"Hey gorgeous," Jimmy said when she opened the door, which always gave her a smile.

"How was your flight, babe?" she asked as she gave him a kiss.

"Very quiet. Well, mostly quiet," Jimmy replied with a sideways glare at Carina, who was standing a couple of steps behind him.

Alex handed Carina her room card. "You don't mind if I borrow my husband for a while?" she said sardonically.

"Oh, relax. Nothing happened on the flight," Carina replied in annoyance. "Your oversized teddy bear slept through most of it."

"Glad I cured him of his fear of flying. We'll meet in the morning to go over the plan for tomorrow night."

"Well, good night, you two. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Wow, that pretty much leaves everything in play," Jimmy quipped.

Alex huffed. "Good night, Carina," she said as she closed the door. She turned to Jimmy and wrapped her arms around him, giving him an even hungrier kiss than she did a moment ago. Jimmy's hands gently caressed her back and slid downward.

"Oops," he said with a smile as he carefully took Alex's gun out from underneath her skirt. "OK, you do realize that 'is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me' thing won't work for you, right? If it did, we would really need to have a talk."

"Shut up," Alex said with a growl before laughing and grabbing Jimmy's lower lip with her teeth. She ran her hands over Jimmy's chest, unbuttoning his shirt and undoing his belt. "Especially since you seem to be brandishing a shotgun down there."

"Only one owner."

"And a very satisfied customer," she purred as Jimmy planted kisses along her neck while unbuttoning her blouse. "Could I ask you a question, James?"

"Mmm, it better be a quick one. I don't know how long my libido can keep defying the odds."

"Are you sure we're going about this the right way?"

"Um, I'm pretty sure this is how making love works. Unless you've been faking it all this time…"

"I'm serious. I'm a little skittish about risking Chuck and Sarah's son out there."

Jimmy stopped his ministrations on Alex's neck and looked her in the eyes. "Well, it's not ideal, but what choice do we have for now?"

"I don't know. I keep getting this nagging feeling there might be more to this than the IntComm."

Jimmy was quiet for a moment. "I suppose it's possible, but what? Do the people who did this really want John?"

"I don't know that, either. I'm just worried about having an inexperienced teenager involved in this. Particularly one from a family who means so much to all of us."

Jimmy nodded and put his arms around Alex. "I wish there was a better way, but we have to keep playing it their way until we can find something to give us an edge. Let's hope we can find that something at Barringer's apartment tomorrow night."

He gave her a gentle kiss. "Hey, John will be safe tomorrow night. Samantha and he are just the lookouts. Carina and I will be doing the dirty work."

Alex arched an eyebrow at him. "I hope you mean the spy's definition of 'dirty work' and not Carina's definition of it."

"Of course," Jimmy replied as he kissed her hard, his hands roaming all over her body. "But I'll be more than happy to show you Carina's definition right now," he said in a smooth tone as his hand slid downward, causing Alex to moan.

"Oooh, I hate being married to a 63-year-old teenager," she panted as she straddled Jimmy's waist. The two quickly went to the bedroom.

_**Malibu, California**_  
><em><strong>March 19, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>10:00 PM PDT<strong>_

"Why are we here?"

John took a look around his house. It was so quiet. Obviously that was to be expected, as nobody was home. But it felt more silent even than that.

"Because it's your house and you'd probably be more comfortable here than at a hotel," Casey replied as he entered with Gertrude Verbanski and Samantha.

"I mean, why aren't we flying to New York?"

"And arrive at five in the morning? Plus, the flight crew needs to get some rest. They had the same long day we did."

"I'm sorry, you're right. It's just…Mom and Dad are locked up somewhere…"

"No apology necessary, John," Verbanski said. "We'd all like nothing more than to keep going until we bring them home. But too often in this business, you have to wait to make your move. Charging in blindly just gets people killed. They'll be calling in eight hours. We'll get on the plane right after that and head to New York."

She put her hands on his shoulders. "Don't worry. We're on offense now. We're going to find out what they don't want us to know. Now get some rest. We'll wake you at 5:45."

She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before retreating to the guest bedroom. Samantha followed closely behind. Casey began to follow them but stopped and turned when he saw John wasn't moving towards his bedroom.

"John," Casey began. "You don't get a lot of opportunities to rest on this job, so you have to take advantage of them when they do come up."

John nodded. "No, it's just…" he let the words trail off. Casey looked at him for a moment before a tiny smile came to his face. Relative to Casey, it was an ear-to-ear grin.

"If you ever repeat this story to anyone, I'll tear you into so many pieces they won't even be able to identify you by your DNA."

John looked up at him in surprise. "What are you talking about?"

"I've failed on a few missions in my life. One in particular I'm not very proud of. And it involved your Aunt Carina." John's curiosity was very much piqued. "It was Prague in 2005. I took out this Czech drug dealer who was selling stolen Interpol strategy memos to drug dealers who wanted to know how to avoid their patrols. I was all set to return to the NSA with the key to the safety deposit box where the documents were stored. And then, your Aunt Carina managed to get the key from me. She worked for the DEA then and got credit for it."

"But how would she get it from you?" John was confused until he saw Casey turning red with embarrassment. He then remembered Carina straddling Jimmy in the gym earlier. "Oh, she didn't…"

Casey shook his head. "What can I say? I have a thing for trouble-making women. Sadly, she used that against me again a few years later. Your mother even took a picture of it."

John froze momentarily before he started to laugh hysterically. "My mother caught you with your pants down? Oh, my God."

"Yeah, laugh a little harder, why don't you," Casey seethed. "You wouldn't have been born if it wasn't for me. You know how many times I bailed your parents out of trouble? All so your old man could plug into your mom's network? I kept them vertical so they could get horizontal."

"Eww, brain stamp," John said in disgust at the thought of his parents having sex. "You couldn't have stopped at 'bailed my parents out of trouble'?"

"The point is, quit worrying about making a mistake. For starters, you can't possibly make a worse one than some of the ones we made over the years. More importantly, even when we did, we bailed each other out. We always have and we always will. We helped each other through the good times and the bad. And believe me; there were some really bad times."

"Really?" John replied, his mood much more somber.

Casey nodded. "Your Aunt Alex, my daughter, she didn't even know about me the first half of her life. Slade? We spent a year thinking he died in an explosion to save our lives. Forrest lost her first fiancé on 9/11. And your parents…" Casey fell silent.

"What? What about my parents?" John asked with some alarm in his voice.

"I…can't tell you. It's not the sort of thing you should hear from anyone but them. But when this is over, ask them to tell you why they had a second wedding."

"Wait, what? They got married twice? They got a divorce and remarried?"

Casey shook his head. "The second one was really more of a vow renewal. You came along 18 months later. But you have to ask them."

Casey turned and headed to the guest bedroom. John slowly walked to his bedroom. He took the dirty clothes out of his suitcase and threw them in the hamper in his bathroom. He heard a gentle knock on the door. He poked his head out of the bathroom to see Samantha waiting for him.

"Hey," Samantha said. "I was just wondering how you were doing."

"Oh," John replied. "OK, I guess. It's just, to hear all of this about my parents, and Uncle Casey told me a few more things." John stopped and smiled. "One of them involved…"

"Who?"

"Never mind," John replied, figuring Samantha didn't need to hear more about the exploits of her mother.

"That was amazing work you did on the roof," Samantha said.

John was confused for a moment until it clicked in. "Oh. Well, I guess it pays to have an ex-military man in the family."

Samantha smiled. "It's funny. My mother says you have your mom's skills but act more like your dad. You're friendly with everybody."

John nodded. "I get that a lot. Mom's the quieter, reserved one. Although she's gotten a lot louder lately with Emma in eighth grade. My sister's starting that whole 'teenage rebellious' phase. She's a lot better at it than I ever was."

"I remember those days. I was quite the wildcat myself. But your parents have handled quite a bit in their lives."

"True, I guess."

They stood in silence for a minute. Samantha pointed down the hallway where she was sleeping. "Could you…help me with the bed in my room? I'm not sure where they keep the bedding in the house."

"Oh, sure."

John walked down the hallway to the linen closet and took a set of bedding from the top shelf. He walked down to the bedroom Samantha was staying in and took the fitted sheet from the set. Samantha walked to the opposite side of the bed from him as they put the bedsheet on, repeating the process with the top sheet and the blanket. Each of them took a pillow and stuffed them into the two pillowcases.

"Thanks," Samantha said. She then gave him a playful smack in the face with her pillow.

"What was that for?" John said in surprise.

"That was for staring at my ass in the vault," she said with a devilish grin.

John looked at her in mock horror for a moment before giving her a playful smack with his pillow. "Well, that's for flashing me in my hotel room," he replied with a grin.

Samantha laughed before swinging her pillow at him again. "And that's for not controlling yourself in the bed."

John returned fire. "Look who's talking, Miss I-Have-Nothing-to-Be-Sorry-For!"

They continued hitting each other with the pillows for a few seconds before finally giving up from laughing so hard. The laughter died down when they realized how close they were to each other.

John felt flushed. "We…we should probably get some sleep. Casey said that doesn't happen often on this job."

Samantha took a step back. "Yeah…yeah, you're right."

Neither made a move, almost trapped by the tension in the room. They stared at each other. Samantha moved back to where she was, standing mere inches from John. Her sky blue eyes flicked back and forth between staring into John's eyes and staring at his lips. Her hands slid up John's chest to rest on either side of his face. He bent down slightly as she pulled him to her, his head tilting slightly to the right as she placed her lips on his. The kiss was even more electric than the one the previous night, and Samantha could feel a difference. Last night, she was kissing to entice. Tonight, their kiss touched her on so many different levels, most of which she never experienced before, despite the number of men she had slept with in her life.

They separated and gazed into each other's eyes for several moments. "I…I…should…" John finally managed to eke out as he gestured to the door with his head.

Samantha nodded. "Yes. Tomorrow will be an even longer day."

John exited the bedroom, taking long, difficult steps back to his room. Samantha pulled the blanket and sheets back to climb into bed, unable to get these sensations out of her mind. She didn't even bother to pull the blanket over her; her entire being was on fire. Every part of her felt tingly.

_I am in so much trouble_, she thought to herself.

_**Calverton Maryland**_  
><em><strong>March 19, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>11:30 PM EDT<strong>_

Bob Hume waited until the exact time he was supposed to send the message. What he was doing was not something he envisioned when he began working at the DNI four years ago. But he wanted the money he was promised. A life far away from the government sounded quite enticing.

"I did what you told me. The boss is investigating," he typed into his iComm.

The reply came back a moment later._ Good. Make sure it doesn't lead back to you. Someone else needs to be blamed._

"But how long can that last? The woman is no dummy. She used to be a spy."

_So is her husband, I know. It just has to throw them off the trail for a short time. Let them try to get something out of Barringer. He'll have them running in circles._

"And then…and then I get my money?"

_You saw the account. It's there. You'll get what you need when I get what I need._

"OK, OK. I'm just…"

_DON'T just… You stick to the plan. Goodbye._

The connection was terminated. Bob went to his liquor cabinet to get a cheap bottle of scotch. He downed a couple of shots, not even caring it tasted like it was fermented in a bucket full of rust. He went to the computer setup in his apartment and hacked into the servers at the DNI. The faster he did this, the sooner it would be over.

_**Malibu, California**_  
><em><strong>March 20, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>5:45 AM PDT<strong>_

John stirred in his bed at the sound of people moving in the hallway. He opened his eyes and stretched his legs. His eyes widened when he felt someone's hand across his chest. He peeked carefully over his right shoulder to find Samantha spooned against his back.

_Didn't I leave her in the guest bedroom last night?_

John carefully slid forward, letting Samantha's arms slip off of him. He sat up in the bed and watched her sleep for a moment. She looked so peaceful, he found it hard to believe she could be the daughter of someone both her mother and Aunt Alex always claimed had to be closely watched so she didn't get them in trouble. Right now, Samantha looked…angelic, for lack of a better way to describe it.

He looked at his clock radio to see they had ten minutes before Mr. Joshua was to call.

He gently shook Samantha. "Hey," he whispered gently.

Samantha opened her eyes after a few seconds. Suddenly she bolted up and looked around the room.

She then closed her eyes in embarrassment. "Oh, sorry about that."

"How come you're in my bed?"

"I had trouble sleeping last night, so I thought I would try this bed. I hope you don't mind."

"Um, well…no," John carefully replied. "We…did I…"

Samantha shook her head. "No. Actually, I don't think you ever woke up. But that's not why I slept in here."

"Why, then?"

"I…don't want to say. It's silly."

"Oh, come on. It can't be that bad."

Samantha exhaled deeply. "At home…I…have a couple of stuffed animals I like to sleep with at night."

She was reticent to continue, but the warm smile on John's face eased her discomfiture. "I just need something…you know…to cuddle up with at night. Although I'm sure my mother would prefer I avoid anything of the 'cute guy' variety. Of course, she can't really say anything, given how she was at my age."

"Well, I hope I was cuddly enough for you," John replied with a grin.

She returned the smile and gave him a kiss on his cheek. "Wonderful."

They turned when they heard a knock on the door.

"Oh, that's where you went," Verbanski said to Samantha in relief.

John's eyes widened. "Um, this isn't what…"

Verbanski held her hand up. "Don't want to know. We have to get downstairs right now. Get moving."

John and Samantha quickly exited the bedroom and went down the stairs to the dining room. Casey already had the IntComm on the table and was plugging in the gComm linked to John's phone.

"Have a seat," Casey told John as he guided him to the chair in front of the gComm. "When they call, they'll ask you for video evidence, and we'll give it to them. But, and this is very important, before you agree to any further demands, you ask them to prove your parents are still alive. Most likely, they'll acquiesce. They're not going to rock the boat since you completed the first task for them. And of course, as far as they know, you're alone."

"OK," John replied, although the nervousness on him was apparent.

"Just relax," Samantha told him as she placed a glass of orange juice next to him. "You're doing great. Once we get through this part, we're going to find out who they are."

"You're right, you're right." John took several deep breaths to calm himself. The phone rang on the fourth one. He waited for Casey to signal for him to answer.

"Yes?" John asked.

"It has been twenty-four hours, and I hope you have followed instructions," Mr. Joshua said.

"I have."

John aimed the camera on the gComm at his father's invention and switched to a video transmission. He moved the camera slowly over the unit so all of it could be seen. He then switched off the video.

"OK, I have the unit."

"An email message will be sent to your iComm with the instructions for the next part. You have 48 hours to complete it."

"Wait, one second," John said, attempting to sound authoritative. "You still haven't proven to me you have my parents."

"We have gone over this…"

"How do I know you're not some kid at my school pulling an elaborate prank? Lots of people know how to contact me. Prove to me my parents are OK."

There was a slight pause on the other end which could have lasted hours for all John knew. The video screen on the gComm activated and John stared in alarm at his parents passed out on a bed in what looked like a hotel room.

"What…what have you done with them?"

"They're asleep," Mr. Joshua answered with the same foreboding voice that constantly sent chills through John. "I told you before they would not be harmed. And since I already know what your next question will be, turn on your TV to the Weather Channel."

John looked at everybody in confusion. Verbanski retrieved the remote from the living room and turned it to the proper channel. John checked the video screen to see it was aimed at the television in the room, which was also tuned to the Weather Channel. Casey studied it for clues.

"Proof what you're looking at is live," Mr. Joshua answered. "Satisfied?"

John glanced back and forth between the video and his own television. "OK, you proved it."

"Forty-eight hours," Mr. Joshua said as the line went dead.

"Dammit," Casey said. "There was no way to know where they were from that clip. These people are smart."

The gComm beeped once again. John took a look at it to see what the kidnappers wanted him to do next. Casey glanced over his shoulder and nodded slowly. "They want the Intersect loaded onto the IntComm."

Verbanski sat in the chair next to John. He glanced back and forth between Casey and her. The somber looks on their faces was making the fear rise inside of him again.

"Wait…you mean, we're not…" John was having difficulty breathing. "You can't do that. You can't turn on Mom and Dad and leave them to die! You said you'd give up your lives for them!"

"John," Verbanski replied in a soft voice. "We'll do everything we can to find your parents. But the Intersect is more important than all of us. Giving it up would be like giving up a bunch of nuclear weapons to some power-mad dictator. The amount of damage someone can do with the full Intersect is incalculable."

"We'll find a way to get them back," Casey continued. "We're flying to New York to see how much this Barringer prick knows. He's gotta have some computer files or money transfers that will lead us to your parents. One way or another, we'll get them back."

John sat there in silence for a moment. He didn't know a lot about the Intersect, apart from what he learned in the past two days. But he knew his family. They were always there for him, and he was certain they were telling the truth when they said they would do whatever it took to get his parents back.

"OK," he said softly. He stood up from his chair, shakily at first, but the fear inside of him faded away, replaced with internal fortitude. "Let's get going."

_**Pierre Hotel, New York City**_  
><em><strong>March 20, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>4:30 PM EDT<strong>_

Alex, Jimmy, and Carina were waiting as Casey, Verbanski, John, and Samantha entered Alex and Jimmy's suite. Jimmy had already set up his gComm unit to display on the wall near the conference table in the room. Everybody took seats around the table and looked at the display, which showed a schematic of Barringer's apartment.

"Barringer has a two-floor, four-bedroom apartment on the Upper East Side overlooking the park," Jimmy began. He's not shy about having parties; obviously he's connected enough to consider himself untouchable. Plenty of security, too. He pays for the best: Special Forces, ex-CIA spooks, former Mossad, even some wetwork guys from the Russian FSB."

"Here's the good news," Alex continued as she walked up to the image and pointed at the second floor. "The bedrooms are all upstairs, and Barringer is very amenable to couples wanting to borrow a bedroom if they want to…find some privacy. That's our in." She tapped on one of the bedrooms. "The junction box for his network is in a closet in that bedroom. James and Carina will sneak upstairs and gain access to his network from there."

"Wait, Jimmy and Carina are going in as a couple?" John asked. "Why not use an actual married couple? We have two of them here."

"Unfortunately, my job is far too high-profile for that," Alex replied. "You don't have to be as well-connected as Barringer to know who I am. To that point, we also have to assume he's familiar with Gertrude and John's company. I'm sure he's kept tabs on them over the years and would recognize both of them immediately. That's why we need Samantha and you."

"Whoah." John was getting nervous again. "You want me in there with all of those nasty, scary security guys?"

"You just have to keep an eye on them," Carina replied. "All of us are on the guest list for tonight. Jimmy and I own a company that manufactures computer viruses for whoever can put them to good use, and you're his apprentice programmer, trying to learn more about what your boss does. Sam will be right there with you. If you notice anything out of the ordinary, any odd movements by security, you let us know. Otherwise, it's like being at a grown-ups party. Only you're playing actual grown-ups. You talk, you mingle, and you act like the typical happy young New York couple."

"Only we're nothing like the typical young, happy New York couple."

Jimmy smiled. "Not to worry, John. One little trip to Madison Avenue and you'll look like you own one of those apartments yourself."

"In the meantime, John, Gertrude, and I will keep tabs on what's happening," Alex continued. "If things go bad, we'll get you out of there. Don't worry, John."

John nodded, although his mind was reeling with what was in store for him tonight.

_**Pierre Hotel, New York City**_  
><em><strong>March 20, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>8:00 PM EDT<strong>_

John couldn't believe it. He almost didn't recognize himself. He knew Uncle Jimmy was well-connected and street smart, but he didn't realize he had such impeccable taste.

Following the briefing, Jimmy and he went to William Fioravanti on Madison Avenue to buy suits for tonight. He remembered to call him Roger, as everybody at the clothing store called him Mr. Murdock. What he didn't expect was for them to create custom suits for both of them in the span of only two hours. But then, given he now knew his uncle was the CIA's best field agent, perhaps it wasn't such a stretch to believe.

He was checking himself out in the mirror, reveling in how jealous the other guys in his high school would be right now, when he heard a knock on the door. He opened it to find Samantha waiting for him. She was wearing a midnight blue dress that hugged her every curve and a slit in the front that let her entire leg show should she desire it. Her hair was up, held in place by two long needles. The diamond necklace she wore accented the long slope of her neck. Suddenly, he felt like he just got his clothes from the dollar store.

Or so he thought. John wasn't certain, but he swore Samantha had the same deer-in-the-headlights look upon seeing him.

_How did I end up like this?_ John thought to himself in total amazement.

He considered Samantha to be very attractive when he met her in the Wheatsheaf the other night. And there wasn't a single thing that happened since to change that opinion. He never realized women could be this attractive, let alone interested in him. He didn't think he was ugly, but he certainly didn't consider himself supermodel material. But if his parents' friends continued to think he could handle himself out in the field, perhaps the possibility existed he could turn a few heads. After all, did anyone ever see an ugly James Bond?

"Hi," he said nervously. "You look…amazing."

Samantha smiled, her eyes lighting up the entire room. "Thank you. You look…you look pretty amazing yourself."

John shifted back and forth on his feet. "Does this…this sort of thing happen to you a lot?"

"Situations like this are part of agent training, but we don't get to experience them for a couple of years, so I'm kind of ahead of the curve."

"You're way ahead of me; that much is certain."

"Hey, don't sell yourself short. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you already look like a spy."

John shyly looked at the ground, unable to hold her gaze. Samantha reached up to straighten his tie, and John froze.

"What's wrong?"

"Sorry. It's just…my mother does that all the time to my dad when they're dressed up, and…"

Samantha's eyes widened and she put her hands to her face. "Oh, no. I am so sorry. I wasn't trying to make you feel uncomfortable…"

John gently took her hands. "You didn't know. It's OK. I'm…I'm just trying to get used to all of this. My parents aren't the people I thought they were."

Samantha squeezed John's hands in hers. "They are the same people. They just didn't do the same thing for a living you thought they did, that's all. They've always loved you and looked out for you, right?" John nodded. "That hasn't changed."

Samantha moved closer to John. "And given what I've seen of you in the last two days, I can understand why."

The two looked at each other. John felt the same sort of warm, scared/excited feeling he felt the night before in his house. He wasn't sure how Samantha could make him feel this way. And he really couldn't figure out how he was able to make her feel that way as well.

The tension was broken by someone gently clearing their throat. Both of them turned to see Jimmy and Carina waiting for them. Carina was wearing a royal blue dress similar to her daughter's. Her hair was also up but held in place by clips.

"The limousine is here. Are you ready?" Jimmy asked.

John and Samantha looked at each other before they turned back and nodded. Jimmy gestured towards the door, and the four walked out of the hotel.

_**500 East 77**__**th**__** Street, New York City**_  
><em><strong>March 20, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>8:00 PM EDT<strong>_

The limousine pulled up in front of the residence of Steven Barringer. John looked towards the sky in amazement.

"Incredible. I've always wanted to go to New York, and the first time I go, I'm going to a fancy party," he said in awe.

"Hey, you gotta play it cool," Jimmy replied. "Like they say in football, act like you've been there." He handed something to both John and Samantha. "That's trichloromethylene. You can drink as much booze as you want and you won't feel the effects. You have to stay sharp and keep an eye on things. You're Carina's and my eyes in there when we go upstairs."

"No problem," Samantha said confidently as she swallowed the pill Jimmy gave her, washing it down with a bottle of water from the limousine before handing it to John. Carina took a pair of earpieces from her purse and handed them to John and Samantha. Both of them inserted the earpiece in their ears.

"Comm check, Case?" Jimmy said.

"Loud and clear, Slade," Casey replied. "Carina? John? Samantha?" Each person responded when Casey called their name.

"Let's go," Jimmy said. Carina looped her arm through his, and Samantha did the same with John. The four entered the building, nodding in appreciation to the doorman who held the front door open for them. They stepped into the elevator, and Carina pressed the button for the 34th floor.

"OK, we walk around and socialize for 45 minutes, and then Jimmy and I will make our move," Carina said. "Understood?"

"Understood," John replied.

"Good, just follow our lead and remember everybody's name."

"You're Harry and Helen Tasker, and we're June and Al Gibson," Samantha replied.

"You got it," Jimmy replied. "Just keep 'em peeled and we'll get what we need up there.

The elevator opened on the 34th floor to a party that was in full swing. Jimmy and Carina stepped off the elevator like they had been to hundreds of social events like this. Samantha started to walk forward, but John's steps were timid and uncertain.

"Just relax," she whispered in his ear as she gently pulled him into the party.

Jimmy and Carina grabbed champagne glasses from a passing server. John looked hesitant, but Samantha covered by grabbing two glasses from a server on the other side of them and handing one to John.

"Sorry," John whispered.

"Remember, John, you have the easy part," Alex said over his earpiece. "You just have to keep an eye on security."

"But everybody's wearing suits," John replied. "How do you spot them?"

Samantha gestured to her left. "If you see any guy by himself who's too good-looking to come to this party alone, they're probably security. Someone scanning the crowd, a slight scowl on their face, anybody who suddenly turns their head to the side. Basically, anybody who looks like they're not enjoying themselves."

John nodded as he looked around the room to spot any security personnel. "OK, I think I get it."

"You're doing fine," Casey said. "Just keep moving around the room. Don't stay in one spot. Most of all, act like you're having a good time. Someone who's got a girl like Samantha on their arm should be having a good time."

John looked at Samantha and smiled. It didn't even occur to him to pretend he was on a date. He was too worried about keeping an eye on things. Aunt Alex was right; they were just the eyes and ears for Jimmy and Carina.

The music in the background changed to a slower tempo, and several couples went out in the middle of the apartment to dance.

"Come on," John said as he grabbed Samantha's hand.

"You want to dance?" she asked with a combination of curiosity and pleasure.

"If we're moving around on a dance floor, we can keep an eye on more of the room, right?"

"Absolutely," she said with a smile as they walked to the middle of the floor. They put their arms around each other and gently swayed to the music. John's eyes scanned the room, although to say he enjoyed being so close to Samantha was an understatement.

"Do you count ten security guards, Uncle Jimmy?" John said quietly.

Jimmy scanned the room. "Not bad. But don't forget the server by the bookcase and the bartender at the other end of the room."

"How did you know?" Samantha asked as she spotted the two security people Jimmy indicated.

"It's instinct. It takes years to get good at it."

Carina glanced at the clock near the entrance. "Time for us to get a bit amorous," she told Jimmy as she wrapped her arms around him.

Jimmy exhaled slowly. "I am so on the couch tonight," he muttered as Carina drew his face to her and gave him a kiss. He reciprocated to sell the cover.

"Carina…" Jimmy broke the kiss and put his lips near her right ear, away from her earpiece. "You realize the crowd can't actually see your tongue down my throat, right?"

She gave him a playful growl. "You are seriously no fun," she pouted as she grabbed his ass and continued her assault on his lips.

"Mother," Samantha said with more than a little frustration. "I think everybody gets the idea. Don't go overboard."

"Believe me, Sam," Jimmy tiredly replied. "She won't think she's gone overboard until she's gotten us both naked on the dance floor."

"Don't give her any ideas," Alex growled.

"Let's get moving." Jimmy pulled Carina off of her and they made their way through the crowd to the stairwell. John and Samantha continued their dance on the main floor while Jimmy and Carina walked upstairs. They slipped into the bedroom and found the closet. Jimmy took out a device and attached it to the network system inside the house.

"You're much more relaxed," Samantha noted.

"Huh?" John was concentrating too much on watching the guards and forgot about Samantha. "Sorry. Am I really?"

She nodded. "You look like you're enjoying yourself."

John smiled. "Well, it's like Uncle Case said, any guy would be lucky to get to dance with someone like you."

"Come on, who am I?" Samantha looked away abashedly.

John stared in disbelief. "You're only in your second year of training, but you act like you've been doing this all of your life."

Samantha returned his stunned expression. "Says the man who rappelled down a building with me on his back?"

John shrugged and smiled. "Well, we didn't have another way off the roof. And Case always told me it's better to execute a good plan now than a perfect plan next week. I'm not sure where he got that, but it makes sense."

"You did it very well," she replied. Her smile disappeared and she tapped John on his shoulder. "The security looks very busy all of a sudden."

John turned and saw what Samantha noticed. "Uh-oh."

-/^\-

"How long?" Carina whispered.

Jimmy checked the device he installed on their network. "Another thirty seconds."

Carina went to the door in the bedroom when she heard the sound of footsteps heading their way. She looked back and forth. Jimmy grabbed her and pulled her towards the bathroom.

"Stay in there," Jimmy ordered. "I'll play dumb and draw them away."

"Can't deny your skills at that," Carina replied disdainfully as Jimmy shut the door. He turned around to find Steven Barringer and a team of six security guards facing him.

"Mr. Murdock," Barringer said with a self-satisfied grin. "I had no idea you wanted to visit. You simply had to call." One of the security guards frisked Jimmy and removed his gun. "I guess I should have told you; my security team just installed the latest facial recognition software throughout the house. It can scan and identify two hundred faces in just ten minutes. The software your good buddy has can't even do that in sixty minutes. Make sure John Casey knows he has to keep up with the times."

"Jimmy, Jimmy," he heard John whisper over his earpiece. "I think the guards are heading your way.

"You don't say," Jimmy quietly muttered.


	6. This Never Happened To That Bond Guy

_Hi. I wanted to add the latest chapter to the story. It's looking like there will be 8 or 9 chapters to this, but there's plenty left to go. I hope everybody is still doing well, even though the show has been over for almost two weeks. But that's what DVDs are for, right? Not to mention, there are so many great Chuck fics on this site, and I'm sure people will continue to write them. Hopefully, all of you will continue to enjoy them and leave reviews. That's how authors know what they are doing is worth it._

_Thanks once again to BDaddyDL for letting me run some ideas past him, although we had a little debate on something in this chapter I'm still wishing we hadn't. Ah, well._

_Enjoy, and please leave reviews!_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Calverton, Maryland<strong>_  
><em><strong>March 20, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>9:45 AM EDT<strong>_

Bob Hume told his boss he had a touch of the flu and would be unable to come into work today. That wasn't far from the truth. He wasn't feeling well at all. He wasn't starting to have second thoughts about this. It was one thing to give out information, but now he had to pin the blame on someone else. It made logical sense, obviously. He sure as hell didn't want to get into trouble over this. But the person promising his big payday had been quite cryptic in the reasons for needing this information and quite ominous about what would happen if Bob walked away. He felt less sure of himself now than when this started, but it was better to finish it off and walk away rich than end up in jail.

He readied the program on his computer to make the necessary changes to all of the emails that had been passed back and forth. The program would also alter the file logs. Unfortunately, there were only a few people he could realistically frame for this, and even fewer would have had a motive. But Kristin Collier had the security clearance to make this work, and a bad divorce a year ago could be interpreted as the impetus for committing these crimes.

He started the transfer. Kristin was typically in a meeting at this time every day. Bob felt a twinge of guilt as he loaded the files into an unmarked folder on Kristin's computer. But better for Kristin to take the fall than him.

_**500 East 77th Street, New York City**_  
><em><strong>March 20, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>9:15 PM EDT<strong>_

Steven Barringer smiled as he looked at Jimmy, who was being held by two of his best security people with four more pointing their guns at him.

"Well, this is certainly my night," he said in triumph. "Wait until everyone hears I managed to capture the great Roger Murdock. You're little slip-up is going to help me usher in all sorts of new clients."

The four gunmen turned in surprise when they heard a noise coming from the bathroom. One man turned back to Jimmy while two other men kept their guns trained on the door. The fourth man quietly put his hand on the doorknob and threw it open.

Barringer and his men stood in shock at seeing Carina completely naked on the other side of the door.

"Hi, boys," she said with a coquettish lilt.

Jimmy kicked up with both feet to nail the man with the gun on him in the chin, knocking him out. He completed his back flip and grabbed the heads of the two men holding him, ramming them into each other and then throwing them at the two men with the guns on Carina. All four men were knocked to the ground. Barringer ran from the room as Carina took a telescoping baton out of her purse and swung it at the man who opened the door, knocking him unconscious. One of the men on the ground tried to get up, only to be met by a roundhouse kick by Jimmy. He grabbed the man's gun and pistol-whipped another man who tried to get up. Carina swung her baton at a third man to keep him down, while Jimmy gave the last man a kick to his head.

Jimmy retrieved his gun and turned to Carina with a raised eyebrow. "Never thought I'd be glad to see you naked."

Carina sauntered up to him and gave him her best wanton gaze. "See what you've been missing for the last twenty years?"

Jimmy stifled a laugh. "We would have lasted a month. If that."

"Uncle Jimmy, everything OK?" John asked as Samantha and he started walking towards the stairs.

"Fine for the moment," Jimmy said as he went to the closet to retrieve the device he attached to the server. "Give Aunt Carina credit for saving our asses."

"How?"

Jimmy shook his head and smiled. "Doing what she does best." Carina gave him a glare as she put her dress back on. "But Barringer's onto us."

"I kind of figured that. Every security guy is going crazy down here."

"Case, get the van ready. John, stand at the bottom of the spiral staircase. You'll have to get the data out of the apartment."

"How?"

"We're going to add stuntman to your résumé."

Jimmy kept the flash drive in his hand and peeked into the hallway. Several security people were heading up the stairwell. "As soon as I get them chasing me, head down the back stairs to the kitchen and get Sam and John out of here," he told Carina, who nodded in agreement.

Jimmy watched the security people walk past the door, and then he jumped into the hallway.

"Hey, morons!" Jimmy yelled.

Barringer's security turned to see Jimmy smile and give them the finger. They pulled their guns out and gave chase. Jimmy ran to the spiral staircase and sat on the banister. He kicked the closest man to him to knock him back. He smiled as he pushed off, sliding down the banister and making as big of a scene as he could. He hit the bottom and jumped, landing on John, who was standing at the bottom of the stairwell. The two tumbled to the floor. Jimmy slipped the flash drive into John's coat.

Jimmy got up and acted like he was hammered. "Hey, I'm slidin' here!"

Samantha caught on and nailed Jimmy with her purse. "You drunken asshole!" Jimmy stumbled away, drawing security with him as Samantha went to John and pulled him up carefully. "Is there a place for my husband to lie down?"

"There's a first aid kit and a cot next to the kitchen," one of the security people told her as he ran after Jimmy. Samantha led John to the kitchen area.

"Ugh," John grunted as they went into the kitchen.

"Nobody's in here, John," Samantha said. "You can stop pretending."

"Who's pretending?" John gritted through clenched teeth. "Uncle Jimmy is a frickin' anvil."

"Do you have the drive?" Carina asked as she spotted them.

"Yeah, let's go," John replied.

Carina, John, and Samantha walked quickly through the kitchen to find the hallway leading to the freight elevator. They found the back door that led to the hallway and opened it…

…and ran straight into Barringer and four members of his security detail.

-/^\-

Jimmy found the stairwell near the main entrance. He tried going down the stairs, only to see a pair of security personnel charging up the stairs. He ran back into the apartment and tried the elevator, only it wouldn't respond. He looked back and forth to see Barringer's men closing in on him. He took his gun and another item out of his coat and sprinted for the windows at the opposite end of the apartment, running past the startled guests. He fired two shots at the window, cracking the glass. He crashed through the glass, leaping out of the 34th floor. As he fell, he aimed his piton gun at the building across Barringer's apartment. The piton embedded itself into the concrete, and Jimmy held onto the gun as he swung across the street. He crashed through a window on the tenth floor of the opposite building, landing inside an apartment and startling a young couple in bed.

He got up and brushed the glass off of himself. He saw the couple in bed in a rather compromising position and looked away sheepishly.

"Sorry about the window. But hey, glad to see one of us will have a happy ending tonight," Jimmy quipped to the guy as he walked quickly out of the apartment.

-/^\-

Carina, John, and Samantha froze at encountering Barringer and his security detail.

"Agent Miller," Barringer said. "I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to tell you. I have a few 'friends' in British Intelligence." He gave Samantha a leering gaze. "And is this your daughter? I've heard good things about her. If she's anything like her mother…"

Carina's eyes were daggers at Barringer and she was ready to strangle him with her bare hands. Barringer pulling a gun out and aiming it right at her forehead was the only thing stopping her.

"I suggest you two tell me why you're here unless you want to be an orphan," Barringer said in a dangerous tone to John and Samantha.

"We stole some data off of your systems," Samantha replied. Carina turned to her as if shocked her daughter caved in. She then quickly glanced down at Samantha's purse. Samantha got the hint. "The drive is in my purse."

One of the security personnel snatched Samantha's purse from her hand and gave it to Barringer. "I'll see if it's in here, and then you can kill them," Barringer replied to his men.

Carina slid her hand behind her back and motioned for John and Samantha to step back, which they slowly did. Barringer unlocked the clasp on the purse and pulled it open.

Barringer and his men were nailed in the face by a tear gas cartridge.

John charged at them as they doubled over from the smoke, knocking them down like bowling pins. Carina and Samantha ran after him, keeping low to avoid the smoke. They ran down the hallway towards the freight elevator. John heard footsteps coming from the other direction. He pressed himself against the wall as two of Barringer's security guards rounded the corner. Both of them were put down by a surprise roundhouse kick by John. He got to the elevator and pressed the down button as Carina and Samantha caught up to him. Two more security personnel came down the hallway. Carina smashed one in the face with her baton as Samantha sent her heel into the other. She stepped back and looked at the elevator.

She never saw Barringer level his gun at her.

"SAM!" John cried as he leaped at her, tackling her to the ground as Barringer's shot just missed. Carina fired down the hallway, and Barringer ran in the other direction towards the main elevator.

The freight elevator opened. John pulled Samantha up, who was still in shock and breathing heavily, and took her into the elevator. The three took the elevator down to the ground floor. They exited out into the alley as Barringer ran down the hallway in pursuit. He threw open the door to the alley…

…and was met by Casey's fist. He fell to the ground unconscious.

"Upgrade that," Casey sneered as everybody got into the van. Casey got into passenger's seat, and the team drove away quickly.

_**Pierre Hotel, New York City**_  
><em><strong>March 20, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>10:45 PM EDT<strong>_

Samantha knocked on the door to John's room but got no response. She looked down at the ground, as she could only imagine what was going through John's mind. The adrenaline from the evening had probably worn off by now and reality was setting in. She could certainly sympathize with it, since she was feeling the same way herself.

She took a skeleton keycard out of her purse and opened the door. She stepped inside. "John?" she called out, but she still got no response.

She walked to the bedroom and opened the door slightly. John was sitting on the edge of the bed. He had shed his coat and loosened his tie. He was looking down at the ground, had his arms wrapped around himself, and was shaking uncontrollably.

"John?" she repeated softly.

He stopped shaking and looked up at her but didn't say anything. She walked to the bed and sat down next to him.

"Are you OK?" she asked as she put a hand on his shoulder.

"I can't…I can't do this…I…you…you almost died tonight…"

Samantha moved in front of him and took his hands. "But I didn't. You saved my life. You were incredible. Your parents would be so proud of you."

"My…my parents…oh, God…Barringer is going to tell whoever did this what happened. They're going to kill my parents…"

"No. It's just like Casey said. They won't risk giving up the IntComm. The government would hunt them down if they tried anything."

"I…I can't do this…this is too much for me to handle…what the hell was everyone thinking? I don't have the…"

"John!" Samantha grabbed his face and looked intensely into his eyes. "We succeeded tonight, OK? It didn't go perfectly, but we got what we needed. And you're a big reason why we did. You can do this. Everybody believes in you."

Samantha gently caressed his cheek, but John still quaked in fear. Samantha held him as waves of different emotions engulfed her. She could feel her chest constrict. She grabbed the back of John's head as her lips crashed onto his. She kissed him in a release of absolute passion and intensity. John began to reciprocate out of instinct as Samantha felt electricity course through her on an epic scale.

She pushed him back on the bed and fell on top of him, quickly unbuttoning his shirt as her mind became a blur of joined lips and tongues teasing each other. She kicked her legs through the slit in her dress so she could straddle John. She began feasting on his neck and chest as she undid his belt.

John suddenly shook his head clear and became cognizant of what was going on. He pushed Samantha back from his face.

"What are you doing?" he said in a rush.

"Trying to get your clothes off," Samantha panted. "You're freaking out, John. You need to relax."

"Is that your solution to every problem? Rip off your clothes and jump on it?" he said sharply, his voice dripping with contempt.

Samantha glared at him. "No," she said as a blaze of anger ran through her. "What? Do you think I'm still trying to play you?"

"Yeah…NO! No, I don't think you're trying to play me!"

Samantha got off of him and both stood up. "What the hell is wrong with you, then?"

"Do you not even get what happened tonight? You know close we came to being killed?"

"Yes. As close as I came to getting run over by a bus when I was fourteen and someone pulled me out of the way. As close as I came when I was two years old and got sick. But guess what? I'm still here! Things happen, and you just have to deal with it."

"And screwing my brains out is how you deal with it?"

"Did it ever occur to you there might be more to it than that?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know. That you're incredibly handsome and brave? That you're an amazing kisser and I wanted to take it to the next level? Oh, how about the fact that you saved my life tonight? Take your pick, John. If you don't want me being attracted to you, you're making it pretty goddamn difficult."

John sank down again and hung his head. Samantha calmed down and looked at him for a few moments. She then moved back in front of him and took his hands.

"John, forget about everything else that has happened. You saw me in the bar a few nights ago. What were you thinking at the time?"

He was quiet for a moment. "I thought you were…absolutely gorgeous. Sophisticated, funny, nothing at all like the girls in my high school."

"And if you weren't trying to find your parents?"

"I would be…trying to ask you out. Probably tripping over my own tongue to sound cool, yelling at Connor for trying to barge in on our conversations. Who knows?"

Samantha laughed. "And I don't doubt I would have said yes. I thought you were really cute then, and over the last few days, you've gotten better and better. I was right; the son of Chuck and Sarah Bartowski is an amazing person."

John looked up at her and gave a gentle smile that faded quickly. "I'm…sorry I…"

"Hey," she sharply replied as she sat on his lap and wrapped her arms around him. "I should be apologizing. You've had to deal with so much in the last few days, and I should have been more sensitive to that. It's just…I'm not used to being with someone like you. A genuinely good person who's not just in it for themselves. I'm in unfamiliar territory, and it feels both terrifying and exciting. But…it's not fair to put all of that on you right now."

Samantha cradled his face in her hands. "I know things were crazy tonight, but you'll make it through this. Just trust your family, John. Most of all, trust yourself. You will succeed. You'll bring your parents home."

Samantha hugged him tightly and kissed him on the cheek. "You don't have to be afraid of anything. We're here for you."

"Thank you," John said quietly.

Samantha stood and walked towards the door, but then she turned around. "And John?"

"Yes?"

"If I see you freaking out again, I'll get my mother's handcuffs, chain you to the bed, and do things to you that would make online porn look like a Walt Disney film."

She grinned at John's shocked expression before turning on her heel and exiting his room. John shook off his astonishment and even managed to smile.

_**Pierre Hotel, New York City**_  
><em><strong>March 21, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>7:45 AM EDT<strong>_

Casey and Verbanski knocked on the door to Alex and Jimmy's suite. Samantha opened the door to let them in, and Casey laid the IntComm equipment on the conference table while Verbanski got coffee for both of them. Everybody else was milling around and nibbling on pastries delivered by the hotel's room service.

Samantha kept an eye on John. He was far more subdued than he was yesterday morning in his house, but at least he wasn't bordering on hyperventilation like he was last night. She remembered the stories her mother told her about Chuck and Sarah Bartowski, particularly about how it took them so long to finally realize they belonged together. In fact, her mother knew Sarah had fallen for Chuck long before she admitted to it. There were a lot of rough spots and a lot of people who wanted them to fail, but in the end, Carina always felt jealous the two of them had so many people in their lives. Friends and family who would do anything for them. Given what she had seen of John, Samantha could certainly see how that was possible.

"I've been trying to decrypt Barringer's files, but it'll take forever with the computer I have," Jimmy said as he looked up in frustration from his monitor. "His system had pretty high-up security on it."

Alex walked by her husband to sit at the table. She smiled and picked a few stray shards of broken glass that were still in his hair from his stunt the prior night. "Can you take it to Langley?"

"That's what I was about to suggest. I use the systems there, and we can have it figured out within a couple of hours. Otherwise, this will take all day."

"Then that's where you're headed as soon as we land in D.C. In the meantime, we have just over a day to load the Intersect program onto the IntComm. Casey, is there anything you can decipher from Chuck's notes?"

"Good grammar is not a Bartowski trait," Casey grumbled as he tried to decipher what Chuck had written. "But if I'm reading this correctly, the IntComm is almost ready to have the Intersect downloaded into it."

"Almost?"

"It looks like the inhibitor lockout hadn't been installed yet. Without that, it's not safe for general use."

John carefully raised his hand. "What's wrong, John?" Alex asked.

"I was just looking at the unit and I saw the sunglasses. I don't understand what those are for."

"In the early days of the Intersect, in order to download the data, the images used to be projected onto a big screen, like in a movie theatre. That's how your grandfather and Uncle James got their original ones. Of course, as technology advanced, then the means became more practical. The idea behind using the IntComm was so that all agents could see any data the Intersect had for them regarding any threats to the country. However, if their job required a special skill, they could program the IntComm to show the images that would download that particular skill into their minds. When they were done, there was to be a cleansing program that would erase the skill so there would be no harm done to the user."

"That's the point of the inhibitor lockout," Casey said. "With that installed, a person could just look at the data they need and download only a couple of skills at a time. If they wanted more, they have to purge the old ones. It's a safety measure built into the system. Your father insisted on that."

"But without that lockout?" John asked.

"Then it's an all-or-nothing. The whole Intersect goes into your head and you are…I can't believe I'm saying this…you turn into Superman…or Green Lantern, or one of those other morons."

"Actually, it's more of a Professor Xavier meets Jackie Chan meets James Bond," Jimmy mused. "But definitely a suave, Sean Connery-type…"

"Enough with the nerdgasm," Casey growled. "But the full Intersect downloaded into someone would make them damn near invincible."

"Then, does that mean if you have a full Intersect inside of you, it can be dangerous?" John asked with rising concern.

Casey, Jimmy, and Alex nodded. "In all of the years the Intersect has existed, only your father and I ever handled the full one successfully," Jimmy said gravely. "And even then, both of us had problems. Your Aunt Ellie made some changes to the original design and fixed it. Once your parents left the CIA, that's the one I used until that accident in New York nine years ago."

"Has anybody else tried downloading it? Have any of you done that?"

The room fell silent. "Let's not worry about that now," Casey answered quietly. "The next step is to be ready to move when it's time to deliver the IntComm."

John didn't say anything else, but it was clear everybody was keeping something from him. He wasn't sure what it was, but the looks on their faces gave away it was something tragic. Did it have anything to do with what Casey told him the other night? He still couldn't figure out why his parents had two weddings. But his anxiety about it wouldn't go away.

Alex's gComm beeped, and she picked up the listening unit. "Forrest here," she answered. She listened for a few moments, and her face turned ashen. "OK, I'm leaving New York within the hour. I'll be there by lunchtime."

She disconnected, and nobody could miss the cold wave washing over her face.

"What's going on?" Verbanski asked.

"The IT supervisor on the overnight shift completed their nightly audit of the computer systems in the DNI. They found some anomalies on one of the computers. Someone had some files linked to Barringer."

"Who?"

"Kristin Collier." Alex couldn't get rid of the agony she was feeling. "She's the deputy director in the DNI. I can't believe this. We've worked together for eight years, we've been friends all this time, and she sold out Chuck and Sarah?"

Silence fell over the room. Everybody waited for Alex to say something.

"One of your friends did this?" John asked quietly.

Casey shook his head. "That's one of those lessons you learn the hard way in this business, John. Even the people you think you know can turn on you. Unfortunately, that's something all of us have had experience with."

Casey glanced to the other people in the room. No doubt Carina remembered her old C.A.T. Squad friend, Amy, while Jimmy had thoughts of his father running through his mind. He wasn't too upset when he heard his old buddy, Miles, was shanked in prison ten years ago and died from the wounds. He never asked Verbanski about her old enemies, but he was certain she had quite a few. Still, it always stung when a person you thought was your friend or was out of your life forever returned to put you through that same hell once again.

"Nothing changes," Casey replied to refocus the group. "We knew there had to be an insider if the kidnappers knew about the IntComm and your parents' schedule. We'll have to proceed cautiously. Who knows, maybe we can use Collier to our advantage."

"Let's pack," Carina said quietly. "This is going to be a long day."

Everybody got up from the table and headed to their respective rooms to gather their things for the flight to Washington, D.C.

_**Unknown Location**_  
><em><strong>March 21, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>8:15 AM<strong>_

Chuck and Sarah woke up once again the same way they did for the past three mornings: with a splitting headache. It was not the most pleasant way either of them had ever spent their time, but both of them had been in far worse situations. At least they had each other, and they had been through enough together where they realized they had to work together to not drive themselves…or each other…crazy. They had already combed every inch of the room attempting to find cameras or listening devices. If they were in the room, the kidnappers did an excellent job of hiding them.

But their patience for their situation was starting to wear thin. It was like the old Tom Petty song said: the waiting is the hardest part.

"We've woken up with headaches every single morning," Chuck said in almost a whisper, covering his mouth with the MRE bag from which he was having this breakfast. Chuck and Sarah figured this maneuver out very quickly; to disguise anything they might be saying, just in case someone was watching.

"I know," Sarah quietly replied. "That can't be coincidence. The only thing I can think of is that they tranq us after we're asleep to make sure we don't wake up. That must be when they clean the room and restock the supplies."

"That would explain a lot. Can we use that to our advantage?"

"Honestly, Chuck, I'm a little afraid to try. We'd be taking a big risk with so little information to go on. I can't stand the thought of something happening to us if we're wrong."

"Maybe. But a little information is better than what we have now. If nothing else, we figure out where we are and somehow get that to Alex. She wouldn't risk losing the IntComm over us, but I don't want to put her in that position in the first place."

Chuck took her hand. "We're a good team. We can do this."

Sarah smiled and gave him a kiss. "OK. We'll do it tonight."

_**Office of the Director of National Intelligence**_  
><em><strong>March 21, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>1:30 PM EDT<strong>_

Alex sat at her desk going over the documentation her IT department discovered on Collier's computer.

"How come we never picked up on these files before?" she asked her third-shift IT supervisor, who was already six hours past the time he normally went home.

"Our standard file sweeps wouldn't pick up documents like these because none of them have any of the standard code word flags we search for. When we do the monthly audits, we would have found out, and the next monthly audit wouldn't have been run until next weekend."

"But you discovered them last night?"

"Bob Hume gave us a few clues on what to find. Dates, names, cities, the whole bit. It was a search you assigned him to do, I think?"

Alex nodded. "He should have ordered you to do the sweep the second he discovered it."

"He didn't want Miss Collier to get wise to it. When the sweep is conducted, anybody who is online gets a warning message so they can save their work in case there's a problem. If Miss Collier was on her computer at the time, she would have had plenty of time to erase the files."

"Very well. Go home for now, take tonight off. But be ready, because you'll be called in again as part of this investigation."

"Yes, Mrs. Forrest," the IT supervisor replied as he left the room, leaving Alex to read the documents again and again and wonder why Kristin would do such a thing.

_**Langley, VA  
><strong>__**March 21, 2033**_  
><em><strong>3:30 PM EDT<strong>_

Jimmy Slade sat at a very large computer in the basement of CIA Headquarters. It was one of the most powerful computer systems in the entire world, and it had every decryption program ever created loaded onto it. He waited patiently as the computer deciphered the files they took off of Barringer's computer. Even with top-of-the-line security software installed, the yottabytes of programming capacity on the Agency's supercomputer could crack it and hopefully give Jimmy some answers.

The computer began to spit out IP addresses from several dozen different locations. Jimmy started to triangulate their locations. Many of them led to dead-ends, and even more were designed to send data in circles so the origin couldn't be traced. He sighed in frustration as he looked down the list of numbers, trying to find anything that would give him a clue.

He started typing the IP address of one such location. He only saw the address one time, and it looked like an anomaly more than anything else. But perhaps someone down the line got careless. He took a sip from his coffee as the computer did its search.

He got the location from the computer. Jimmy suddenly had difficulty breathing. It was impossible.

"Not him," he whispered in utter disbelief.


	7. The Truth Is Out There

_Hello. I apologize for taking so long to update this. However, work has decided to intrude as of late. Lots of changes going on, and at this point, I'm lucky to be hanging onto my job. But that's how life goes, I suppose. If this chapter isn't up to my usual goofiness, I apologize. Work and life in general has been a bit on the stressful side as of late. Of course, a hobby like this is supposed to relax me, but I haven't quite figured out how to do that._

_This chapter jumps back and forth between different dates, so watching the section headings will be helpful. Also, I decided to split the ending into three shorter chapters rather than two long ones because it gives me room to operate. Plus, it also gives me time to get it organized the way I want it. Of course, my definition of a short chapter is still over 4,000 words. As always, thanks to **BDaddyDL** for his help on this. He really liked my Casey joke in this._

_I hope you like the chapter, and please leave reviews. Thanks!_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Unknown Location<strong>_  
><em><strong>March 20, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>7:30 PM<strong>_

He sat cross-legged on his bunk in deep meditation. It wasn't something one would expect the average prisoner to do, but the one thing that was in abundance in prison was time. One had to find a way to occupy their time while on the inside. And revenge was something that gnawed at the psyche far too much. After a few years, someone who tried to thrive on vengeance would end up as an empty shell, completely worthless to themselves. Patience and preparation were the keys. One had to be ready when the opportunity presented itself.

Four months ago, opportunity came knocking. More accurately, it beeped.

He had exactly 90 minutes every day when he was not in his cell: 45 minutes to exercise and 45 minutes on the computer. He had done some research, careful to cover his tracks on the prison's computer system. He didn't want anybody to know what he was doing. According to the system logs, he spent his time looking at news sites or getting sports scores from ESPN. Sometimes, he read an online Bible just to give the impression he was attempting to reform himself, even though parole was not a possibility. He merely did that to relax the prison administration's posture.

He found the man idly chatting online one night. He knew the man was connected in the government and was also having financial problems. He still had a few accounts that were never found. With the interest earned over such a long period of time, the accounts were valued in the millions. And he showed those accounts to this person in the government. The man was intrigued.

He started slowly, just requesting bits and pieces of information; not enough to get the man in trouble or raise suspicions. But a big picture began to formulate in his mind. This was his chance. He kept the pressure on this man, readying his plans on the outside just as he readied his plans on the inside. It was a great risk, but he felt it was worth the effort.

He opened his eyes and allowed himself a malevolent smile. Everything was coming together, and soon he would have his retribution.

_**Unknown Location**_  
><em><strong>March 22, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>12:15 AM<strong>_

Two guards armed with tranq guns accompanied the diminutive woman they hired to care for their 'guests'. The woman didn't know much, and she was getting paid enough to not ask any questions, such as why they always cleaned the room at this time of the night with the couple still sleeping inside. But given how intimidated she was by the two guards who towered over her, she kept such thoughts to herself.

The first guard unlocked the door and stepped inside. The other guard stayed one step back until the first guard fired his tranq gun at the two sleeping forms on the bed. The first guard turned and nodded, and the second guard motioned for the cleaning woman to enter. She stepped toward the bed as the guard stood passively nearby. The second guard turned on the lights as she pulled back the covers.

The guard had fired his tranq gun into two sets of pillows made up to look like they were asleep.

The guard turned in shock to see a foot come across his face, knocking him back. He tried to straighten himself, only to receive another roundhouse kick from Sarah. He went down as the other guard tried to go after her. He was met by Chuck's fist. He was knocked back into the wall, and Chuck wrestled his tranq gun away. The man tried to charge him, but Chuck opened fire with the tranq gun, hitting the man with a trio of darts. He collapsed to the ground. Sarah took the keys and tranq gun from the first guard.

The cleaning woman held her hands up in terror. "I have nothing to do with this! They just hired me to keep the room clean and stocked!"

Chuck gave a slight smile. "And you did a very good job."

The lady gave an appreciative smile before losing consciousness from the tranq dart Sarah shot at her. Chuck caught her as she fell and gently steered her onto the bed.

"Ready?" Sarah asked.

Chuck nodded. "And I promise not to jinx it this time."

"Jinx it?" Sarah was confused for a moment before figuring it out. "Oh, of course. By saying it's our…"

"Nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh!" Chuck stammered in a panic, which made Sarah smile.

They went to the door. Sarah peered outside carefully. The hallway was barely lit by a series of wall sconces, confirming their original impression they were in some sort of abandoned hotel. Checking the numbers on the rooms, they figured out they were on the fourth floor. They went to the stairwell and headed downstairs.

_**Office of the Director of National Intelligence**_  
><em><strong>March 21, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>2:15 PM EDT<strong>_

Alex Forrest-Slade walked purposefully down to the office of Kristin Collier with two Internal Security officers directly behind her, matching her pace step-for-step. Never in her entire life had she felt so betrayed. She considered Kristin a friend. She had even helped Kristin cope with her divorce. But her predecessor told her never to relax on this job because anybody could turn on you. Alex just learned that lesson the hard way.

She threw open the door to Kristin's office, surprising her. "What's going on, Alex?" Kristin asked with a cup of coffee in her hand.

Alex showed the documentation in her hand. "Kristin, you're being taken into custody, pending charges of terrorism and treason against the United States Government."

The coffee fell out of Kristin's hand, shattering on the floor as her mouth dropped open in shock. "What the hell are you talking about? Treason?"

"Officers," Alex said quietly, motioning for the two security officers to place handcuffs on Kristin.

"Wait, what are you doing? I didn't do anything! Alex, why are you doing this? You know me!"

Kristin's words stung Alex. "I thought I did," Alex replied softly, feeling the pain of Kristin's betrayal.

"I didn't do anything!" Kristin screamed as the guards led her away. "How could you even think that of me? I would never do anything to hurt you!"

Alex leaned against the wall as she tried to regain her composure. Her breathing was shallow but slowly returned to normal. It had been over twenty years since she felt hurt like this, but that didn't help her one iota.

_**Unknown Location**_  
><em><strong>March 21, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>11:00 PM<strong>_

Lights out occurred ninety minutes ago. This supermax facility was supposed to be one of the most secure in the country, using the most high-tech surveillance and escape countermeasures of any prison in the country with a similar designation. But that simply meant it required more than just grabbing a gun and shooting your way out. Someone with enough intelligence and planning could escape.

He was such a person, and the first phase was already in place.

Thanks to a piece of metal he fashioned with parts from his radio, he was able to disable the lock on his cell without it registering on the electronic sensors in the block station office where the guard kept close watch. With all of the lights out in the facility, the block guard relied on heat sensors to detect any movement through the cell block. But thanks to the customized outfit smuggled into him by his outside contact a month ago, he was covered head-to-toe in heat-masking fabric.

He was ready to go. He opened his cell door carefully, trying to make as little noise as possible, as sound sensors could pick up even whispers in the dark. He kept a low profile, hopeful none of the prisoners were still awake, as he made it to the guard station. He jumped the guard from behind, quickly snapping the guard's neck. He took the guards' electronic keycards, which would get him through the rest of the facility. He then reprogrammed the computer to upload the guard's hourly status report automatically to not raise suspicions with the prison administration.

He made it to the door of the facility. He had two more obstacles: a means of transportation, and to get past the guards at the gate. Fortunately, both of these would be taken care of by a guard he knew was on the take from a couple of the gangs in the prison. The guard agreed to look the other way while these gangs took care of their 'affairs' in exchange for favors from gang members still on the outside. By comparison, arranging a state trooper vehicle was easy money for the guard.

He slipped into the back seat of the vehicle and simply waited for the guard to arrive following the conclusion of his shift. The guard entered the vehicle several minutes later, drove to the exit of the facility, and signed out with the on-duty guards like he did every single night. He drove for several miles before pulling up to a stoplight a few miles away from Interstate 65. He put the car and park and turned to face his bankroll, who was still hiding in the back seat.

"You're clear of the prison. Now if you want to stay that way, I want to see a bank account number and password," the guard said decisively.

The man lay still for a moment before sitting upward. "No problem," he replied.

He pulled out a shiv hidden in his sleeve and plunged it into the guard's neck, giving it a vicious twist. The guard grasped his throat as he collapsed onto the front seat. The man casually reached out of the window to open the door. He then opened the driver's side door and pulled the guard out of it. He took the guard's wallet and gun and got behind the wheel of the state trooper vehicle. He drove off into the night, heading for the abandoned hotel. His guests would be in for quite a surprise.

_**Office of the Director of National Intelligence**_  
><em><strong>March 21, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>3:00 PM EDT<strong>_

Alex sat at her desk holding her head in her hands, still distraught over having to place Kristin under arrest. She knew the position of Director of National Intelligence would be one of constant stress. Certainly she had her share of rough times, particularly in those first few years after she took over for General Diane Beckman. But she survived by trusting the people she brought into the fold. Today, one of those people turned on her, and she was having difficulty accepting it.

She heard a gentle knock on the door. "Yes?" she said weakly without looking up.

"Um, I could come back later if you want, Aunt Alex," John said timidly.

Alex looked up and managed a weak smile. "No, that's fine." She gestured for John to sit down. "Is everything OK? I know you want to get back out there and find your parents…"

"No, it's not that. Sam told me what happened."

Alex nodded. "I have an interrogation team on the way. They'll get what we need out of Kristin."

"Actually, I was more worried about you. Sam said this woman is a friend of yours?"

Alex looked at the ground for a moment. "I thought she was. She was the first person I was close to since my days at Quantico. Outside of anyone I met through your parents, that is. It was something I valued. I taught her everything I knew about D.C. politics, and she always lent an ear whenever James was driving me up a wall…which is a lot more than you'd think. I helped her through her divorce."

Her voice sounded quite fatigued. "To go through all of that with her…and then this happens…"

"I'm sorry, Aunt Alex. I didn't mean to pry. I just thought if there was something I could do…"

Alex looked at him for a moment and smiled. "You are so like your parents, it's scary. They wouldn't think twice about helping someone else, no matter how bad things were going. It doesn't take a genius to figure out why people trust them and love them so much."

John looked away abashedly before pausing for a moment. "Trust…" he began.

"What is it?"

"Oh, I was just thinking to myself that it seems so weird that someone you trusted for so long can turn on you like that."

"I wish I could say it never happens, but sometimes it does."

"And they found files on her computer?" John asked, to which Alex nodded. "So you trust the people who told you that over the woman you've been friends with for years?"

"What are you saying? You think someone framed her? What would be their motivation?"

John shrugged. "I don't know. But what was Kristin's motivation for doing this? Why would she betray people who are close to you? Maybe someone planted the files and faked the emails."

Alex took the stack of printouts the IT department handed her and started leafing through them again. "I've been through these a couple of times already. The evidence is pretty overwhelming."

"Right, but don't look at the evidence. Look at what the IT department handed you. Is there anything out of the ordinary?"

Alex looked at the paperwork intensely. She flipped to a particular page and studied the email header. She slowly placed the paper down on the desk, and her hand balled into a fist. She slammed it on her desk.

"Found something?" John asked with a tiny bit of Chuck-like lilt in his voice.

Alex turned one of the emails to face him. "If you ever want a job with the NSA, John, you don't even have to fill out an application. Kristin supposedly sent this email on February 28th at 9:00PM. She would have had to have been committing treason while she was completely hammered."

"What do you mean?"

"That was the day her ex-husband made a motion to garnish half of her wages and accused her of infidelity in court. She was a wreck that day, and I took her out to a bar that night to get her mind off of things."

John smiled. "So, Kristin didn't commit treason…"

"Bob Hume did," Alex replied with considerable acidity at saying the man's name. She quickly typed a search into her desk computer.

"What are you doing now?"

"Every computer in this office is monitored and the IP addresses of every network visited is recorded. Bob used to have the only security to run a search, but I had James give me a back door to the program just in case. Bob has underestimated my tech skills more than once."

The computer completed its search. "Dammit," Alex spat out. "Nobody ever thinks to watch the watchers, including me." She hit a button on her desk so the image displayed in front of John. "He's recorded time at several online gaming sites, none of them legitimate. He must be up to his eyeballs in debt."

"And someone paid him to give up the information on my parents," John concluded with a steadily-rising anger.

Alex pulled out her gComm and punched a few buttons. "John, could you and Gertrude go to Interrogation Room Five? I have someone who will be there in a few moments. I need you to ask him a few questions. Yes, those kinds of questions."

Alex disconnected from her Casey and shook her head. "I don't think I've heard him that happy since he found out they were replacing the paper dollar with a Ronald Reagan coin."

"So, what happens next?"

"Um, it's probably best if you weren't around for what happens next. But I promise to let you know the minute we find out anything. Just stay here. If you need anything, just ask my assistant and she'll get it for you."

John nodded. "Where are you going?"

Alex sighed. "To go apologize to a friend."

_**Unknown Location**_  
><em><strong>March 22, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>12:25 AM<strong>_

Chuck and Sarah descended the stairs to the main floor and opened the door slightly to take a peek. They could see a dozen people milling around what used to be the reception desk. They looked behind them to see if there was an exit to the street, but the door was sealed shut, no doubt boarded up when the hotel was abandoned.

Sarah handed Chuck her tranq gun. "Here, take this." She then began to stretch.

"What are you doing?" Chuck asked.

Sarah looked at him oddly. "I have to get loose before we try this. I'm not as young as I used to be, Chuck."

"You could have fooled me," he said with a mischievous tone, giving her an eyebrow dance in the process.

She grinned and gave him a kiss. "Four days in that room. It was starting to feel like the train trip to Europe again. With slightly less-appetizing food."

"Ready, Mrs. Carmichael?" Chuck said with a smile.

"Ready," Sarah replied.

Chuck threw open the door and Sarah charged out with Chuck right on her heels. Chuck opened fire on the two men holding automatic weapons, nailing each with a tranq dart. The person closest to the door tried to charge them, but Sarah leaped into the air and landed a boot on him to knock him back. She landed and connected with a hook on another man as Chuck fired twice more, taking out two more guards. He ducked down, and Sarah jumped, pushing off of Chuck to land a kick at another person. Chuck took out two more guards as Sarah executed a vertical kick to take out one more person. Chuck fired his final shots, leaving only three guards standing. Sarah blocked a punch from one guard and sent a jab at him while Chuck nailed another man with an uppercut. They turned in time to knock out the last person together.

"Good to know we still got it," Sarah said.

Chuck walked to the reception desk. He tried to pick up the antiquated phone. "They weren't calling anybody with this." He checked the number on the phone. "Area code 334. I think that's Alabama."

Sarah looked through the desk drawers and found an old brochure. "This must be Montgomery. This map shows us near the interchange of Interstates 85 and 65."

Chuck went to one of the unconscious guards and found an iComm. "I need a password to get into this."

"Same with these," Sarah replied as she searched the other guards. "Whoever was in charge was careful."

Outside the hotel, they could hear the wail of a police siren. Both of them sighed with relief.

_**Office of the Director of National Intelligence**_  
><em><strong>March 21, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>4:15 PM EDT<strong>_

John sat quietly in Alex's office, but his tapping foot gave away his nervousness and worry. He wanted to burst out of the office and find everybody else to know what was going on. This was the closest they had come to finding out what happened to his parents, and he was desperate to knowing what happened to them. He hoped they could get the information from this traitor he helped Aunt Alex find.

The door to the office opened. Casey, Verbanski, and Alex entered the room slowly. Alex closed the door behind them.

"John," she said softly. "We know who is behind this."

John looked between the three of them, and his worry escalated quickly into all-out fear. "What? What is going on?"

The door opened, and Jimmy ran in. "Guys, I know who is…" he stopped when he saw the expressions on their faces. "You already know?"

All of them nodded somberly.

_**Montgomery, AL  
><strong>__**March 22, 2033  
><strong>__**12:35 AM EDT**_

Chuck and Sarah ran outside and saw the police vehicle heading towards them. They waved their arms to flag it down. The police car stopped and Chuck and Sarah ran to the window.

"Officer," Chuck said in a rush. "We were kidnapped by a group of men and brought here…"

The man exited the vehicle and stared at Chuck and Sarah. A grin of satisfaction drew itself across his face.

"It's been too long, Chuck," Daniel Shaw said. "I must say, you haven't aged much."

Chuck stared in shock before shaking it off and went after Shaw. Shaw pulled out his baton and smashed it across Chuck's face. Chuck fell to the ground unconscious. Sarah spun and landed a roundhouse kick at Shaw, who simply took it in stride. She tried to throw a hook, but Shaw grabbed Sarah's fist, twisting her arm back into a half-nelson. He slammed her into the vehicle and shoved the baton into her neck.

"Twenty years, Sarah," Shaw hissed. "Twenty years is a long time. But it's time to collect on what you owe me."

His face was inches from hers. "Your son will deliver the IntComm to me…and then you will watch as I take him away from you. Slowly…and painfully."

Shaw turned Sarah and smashed the baton at the back of her head. She fell to the ground as well. Shaw opened the back of the police vehicle and placed both of them inside.


	8. Stepping Up To The Plate

_Well, it's been an interesting couple of weeks. Between work and writer's block and a hundred other things, it took quite a bit of effort to get this next chapter published. I promise not to spend so long getting the final chapter out after this. I've also been trying to enjoy some of the many stories that are still being written about our favorite spy couple. I am thinking of a few stories I might try, including a new Forrest and Slade story and one that I hinted at a few months back, but I haven't decided yet._

_As always, thanks to **BDaddyDL** who got me going on this story. Hope you like the chapter, and please leave reviews now that is back up._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Vienna, VA<strong>_  
><em><strong>March 21, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>8:00 PM EDT<strong>_

Everyone sat quietly in the office Alex set up in her home in suburban Washington, D.C. but little was said. Most funerals were less somber than the group in front of John right now, and he never felt more frightened in his life.

"This Daniel Shaw has gone after my parents before?"

Casey nodded. "He was an agent many years ago before turning traitor. He blames them for the death of his wife and has wanted revenge on them ever since."

"Why? Did my mother or father kill her?"

"It was part of your mother's Red Test, John," Alex said quietly. "Langston Graham, the former director of the CIA, ordered Evelyn Shaw's death. Nobody ever knew why. Maybe she was a traitor, maybe Graham was trying to cover something up, who knows. Certainly your mother didn't know, and it was part of her requirement to become a full agent."

"Wait, have all of you done that?"

Casey, Carina, Verbanski, and Alex gave slight nods. John noticed Jimmy didn't nod, but his expression wasn't any less grave than anyone else's. "You didn't have to take this Red Test, Uncle Jimmy?"

Jimmy exhaled slowly. "The first day your parents and I got in trouble, we had to shoot our way out of a hotel full of enemy agents. I guess the Agency figured an untrained civilian who could kill a half-dozen people like he was Dirty Harry didn't really need a Red Test."

John froze. "What about my…my father? Did he...has he..."

Casey put his hand up. "He took the Red Test, but he didn't kill anyone. I shot the traitor he was assigned to eliminate. Killing people was never something your father could do, no matter how bad things were. And truthfully, your mother killed Evelyn Shaw in self-defense. Your mother may have been a cold-blooded agent at one time in her life, but that was long, long ago."

John sat back in his chair for a moment. This was starting to overwhelm him. "So, Shaw wants the IntComm? Was he an Intersect like you and my father?" he asked Jimmy.

"He had an Intersect in him. He used it to try a takeover of the CIA and kill everybody. Your father managed to trick him into losing it. But John, Shaw doesn't just want the IntComm. He wants revenge. He wants your parents to suffer."

"What?" John was hit by a wave of cold dread.

"Even if you bring him the IntComm, he'll still kill your parents," Casey replied gravely. "And he'll kill you, too."

"He…he wouldn't…" John was starting to hyperventilate.

Casey shook his head. "He's tried to kill all of us before. Shaw won't stop until every last person your parents ever knew and loved is dead."

John sat in silence and began to shake uncontrollably. Samantha quietly slid her chair over and took his hand.

"We…we can't let him do this. We have to stop him." John bolted out of the chair.

"No, John," Carina replied firmly. "You're going to stay here."

"What? No, I have to help my parents. You spent the last week telling me I could be a spy and now you're not going to let me help rescue my own parents? Shaw wants me to bring him the IntComm. He'll kill them if any of you go!"

"John," Jimmy replied forcefully. "There's no way in hell your parents would ever want you risking your life like this. Shaw wants you dead. He'd kill you right in front of your parents just to make them suffer."

John stared at his uncle in shock. He never heard him talk like that before, and it didn't calm him down one bit. "So, we're not going to do anything? You're going to leave them to die?"

"I have every last person who works for me on this," Alex replied. "They're monitoring communications across the country trying to find any information on your parents. They'll finish the interrogation on Bob Hume in a couple of hours. If he wants to avoid the death penalty for treason, he's going to have to give us everything he knows."

"Most importantly, John," Casey continued. "Shaw is locked up in a supermax facility. We already called the warden and told him to keep an eye on Shaw. As long as he's in there, that gives us time to find your parents."

Casey pulled his chair in front of John. "I know you're tired of hearing us say this, but you have to trust us," he said quietly, sounding more like the father of two daughters than a former assassain. "We've dealt with this bastard before and he cannot be trusted. But he is being watched, so we have the advantage. Now that we know who was planning this, it gives us something to work with. It'll be much easier to find your parents now. Just…be patient with us."

John sat there, still trembling a bit at what he learned. He looked at everyone. Although he could sense the worry each of them felt, he could also see they knew the same thing Casey told him: that they would find his parents.

"John, can you be patient with us?" Carina asked softly.

He stared blankly for a long moment before nodding slowly. "I'm just…"

She put a hand on his shoulder. "We all are. Patience is something they can't teach you about being an agent. In a situation like this, you just have to bide your time and wait for the right moment. But it will happen. We'll stop Shaw."

"Thank you," he said quietly. "This has been…this has been hard to take. Please, please just bring them home."

Alex slowly walked out of the room to go to her office in the house. She got on the phone to get an update on Hume's interrogation while Jimmy went to order dinner for everyone. Samantha kept her eye on John. She wanted to talk to him, but she wasn't sure what to say. Perhaps the best course of action was to give John his space. Surely he had to know by now he could talk to any of his family if he needed it, including her.

_**Interstate 85 North**_  
><em><strong>March 22, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>1:30 AM EDT<strong>_

Daniel Shaw glanced at the two passengers in the back of his car. He sent one of the men from the hotel to ditch the state trooper vehicle in Birmingham, just in case he was discovered missing from the prison. He wanted to send any search party in the wrong direction. Once he had the IntComm and disposed of the three Bartowskis, he would fly to Europe, where several old contacts would be very interested in the prize he possessed. He hadn't yet decided whether to sell it to them or give the President a little call, asking how much was it worth for him to return it. Either he would become very rich or he would get a chance to eliminate more of the people who were close to Chuck and Sarah, like John Casey, Carina Miller, or Jimmy Slade. It was a win-win situation for Shaw.

The remaining members of the team were sent ahead to prepare the warehouse in Atlanta. Shaw had to give Chuck and Sarah credit. He figured they would try to escape, but he didn't expect them to almost get away clean. Even after being away from the spy game for twenty years, they still had the talent. Shaw was perturbed Barringer's mercenaries didn't listen to his warning about underestimating them, but it was irrelevant now. He had the advantage, and he would soon have everything they took from him.

He pulled an iComm out of the bag the now-dead prison guard left for him and attached it to the data scrambler. He was several hours early, but he figured John Bartowski would have the IntComm by now. He just had to convince John to bring it to him.

_**Vienna, VA**_  
><em><strong>March 22, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>1:30 AM EDT<strong>_

Despite everyone's reassurances there was plenty of time as long as Shaw remained in prison, John spent the last few hours tossing and turning in bed. The fear of not getting his parents back still haunted his mind, made worse by the man they suspected was behind their disappearance. The way everyone talked about Daniel Shaw, this guy had to be some kind of monster. But there was nothing he could do about it until the call came…if one was still to come. For all John knew, this IT person in Alex's office might have been making the calls and using the name Mr. Joshua. Or perhaps it was that Barringer person from whom they stole the data in New York.

John turned in the bed when he saw the glow from the gComm and could hear it vibrating against the nightstand. He remembered turning the ringer off before plugging it into the charger. He stared at it in surprise for a moment before answering.

"Hello?"

"Hello, John. I thought it was time we talked."

The voice was not Mr. Joshua. John sat up in the bed in alarm. "Who is this?"

"My name is Daniel Shaw, and I want to negotiate the safe return of your parents."

John sat in open-mouthed shock. "I gather by your silence your parents' friends told you about me?" Shaw asked.

"But you…you're supposed to be in jail," John eked out.

"I was. For the better part of twenty-two years. Not that I would recommend someone try it, but you learn a few things about yourself when you're locked up inside."

"You…you've tried to kill my parents."

"Yes, I am forced to admit you are correct. I was fueled by a mountain of rage and a desire for revenge back then. I lost my wife, and finding out the CIA ordered it turned me into a vengeful, angry person. And I directed that anger at your mother and father. But twenty-two years on the inside gave me some perspective. I realized your mother was just someone following orders, something I had to do plenty of times in my life. And at the end of the day, all of that anger and hatred will never change the past, no matter how much you desire it.

"John, I'm sure John Casey or Alex or Carina told you not to trust me. But that's why I came to you directly. Their judgment would be clouded by their past dealings with me and would never believe I'm a different person. In fact, they probably told you I would kill you if you handed me the IntComm, correct?"

"Yes," John replied softly.

"Exactly. But I figured your desire to get your parents back would be of the utmost importance to you. And if you bring the IntComm to me, you will be reunited with them."

"But if you have no problem with returning them, why did you kidnap them in the first place?"

"I have to admit my desire for retribution isn't completely gone. Obviously I blamed your parents for a lot of things, but I realize now it was what they had to do. I suppose I would have done the same in their place. But now I have different needs. I'd like to retire to somewhere pleasant. Just relax and enjoy whatever time I have left. So I plan to sell the IntComm to the highest bidder. And once the price is set, I'll ask the government to match the offer. I'm sure they'll pay anything to get it back. After all, that's a lot of technology to just let loose on the black market."

Shaw paused for a moment. "There you have it, John. My cards are on the table. Bring the IntComm to me, and you will have a happy family reunion. And the IntComm will be safely back in the hands of the government as soon as I am compensated. Not the worst deal in the world, wouldn't you say?"

"And if I don't give it to you?"

Shaw exhaled slowly. "John, this is why I came to you first. You judgment is not jaded like the others because we have never met. I was hoping you would find my offer to be sincere. But perhaps it's only fair to tell you I planned to take a carrot-and-stick approach to this. Now you've heard the carrot. Do I really need to describe the stick? I'm sure you can picture it for yourself. And I've had to kill many times before. After the first five or six, it doesn't affect you, believe me."

Shaw's voice turned a bit more foreboding. "Rest assured, John, I will get the IntComm. Whether anybody has to suffer for it is completely up to you."

John sat in scared silence. He didn't want to go against everyone's wishes but none of them expected Shaw to break out of prison so quickly. He was out of time.

"What do I need to do?" he said in defeat.

"First of all, you tell nobody about this. If I see John Casey, Carina Miller, Alex Forrest or her husband, you will not get your parents back. Secondly, the IntComm better have the complete, unabridged Intersect on it. And I will test it before I release your parents. And finally, no tricks. If anything happens that prevents me from getting the IntComm and leaving safely, it will end badly for all of you. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," John struggled to say.

"Very well. I assume you're still somewhere near Washington D.C. Take the first available flight to Atlanta. I will call at 9:00 AM to give you further directions. And don't do something stupid like have the Atlanta Police start searching everywhere. After all, my directions may be for you to hop a flight to Dallas. Or Miami, or Chicago."

"I understand," John replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

The gComm cut off, and John sat there, awash in panic. He didn't even know how he could download the Intersect onto the IntComm. He got out of bed and walked to the bedroom door, slowly opening it and taking a peek into the hallway. Several doors down from him was Aunt Alex's office. He walked down the hallway quietly to not awaken anyone. Looking into the office, he saw the IntComm sitting on one desk and the computer Aunt Alex had set up at home at another desk. He remembered her telling him she had several back doors into the systems at the CIA on her computer at the DNI, thanks to Jimmy. Perhaps he set them up here as well.

He went to the desk and found a piece of paper embedded under the glass covering on top of the desk. It looked like a set of clues to passwords. He looked at the first clue, presumably the password to wake the computer. _MaMjDjDaYaYj_. John thought about it for a moment before he figured it out.

_Aunt Alex was born on August 24th, 1977 and Uncle Jimmy was born on April 4th, 1970._

He woke the computer, which promptly asked for a password. He typed _0804042419771970_, and the computer let him have access. He looked through the list of drives and found one that didn't appear to be marked. He double-clicked on that one and was again prompted for a password. He looked down the list at the different password clues Aunt Alex had next to the computer. One of them said _origin_. John looked at it in confusion.

_Origin? Does she mean origin of the Intersect? That would be who invented it, and that's…_

John typed _StephenJBartowski_ for the password, and the screen became filled with thousands of file names, most of which appeared to be specialized files. He scrolled through the list to look for some sort of executable program. He found a program marked 'transfer'. He attached the IntComm to Alex's computer and began the transfer program. The program began to download onto the IntComm. John took a moment to check the hallway to see if anyone had awakened, but the hallway was clear.

He waited patiently for the program to finish the transfer. Eventually the computer beeped and displayed a message indicating the transfer was complete. John detached the IntComm from Alex's computer and logged off. He quickly walked to the door and opened it. The person on the other side of the door nearly gave him a heart attack.

"What do you think you're doing?"

_**Atlanta, GA**_  
><em><strong>March 22, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>5:30 AM EDT<strong>_

Daniel Shaw watched as his men placed Chuck and Sarah in chairs in the middle of the warehouse. He told them to make sure the chairs were bolted to the ground and to make sure their legs were tied to them, not giving either of them the opportunity to work their way out of it with their skill sets. He wasn't going to take any chances with these two.

One of Barringer's men shook the heads of Chuck and Sarah back and forth to rouse them. "Leave us," Shaw told him as they slowly regained consciousness. Shaw looked back and forth between Chuck and Sarah, a tiny smile forming on his face.

"I didn't want you to sleep through all of this," he said with an ice-cold detachment. "I wanted to make sure you got to experience every moment of impending tragedy. Your son should be on his way to Dulles right now to catch a flight to here."

"I can't believe you would do this," Sarah spat out. "You would be so low to kill an innocent child because of something that happened almost thirty years ago?"

Shaw got inches from her face. "And what is that 'something', Sarah? Are you referring to the time you gunned down my wife in cold blood? When you took away everything I ever loved? When you changed the path of my life forever?"

"You know damn well I've regretted that day ever since, and I still do. If you still want revenge after all this time, take it on me. Don't…I beg of you…please don't involve anyone else."

Shaw chuckled. "I think I've heard this conversation before. When was it? Oh, when I had you tied up in Castle that one Christmas, yes. You begged me to spare everyone back then, too. And you know what? Maybe I would have left it to just you and Chuck. But then your family got involved. And your friends. The list of people who must suffer is considerable, Sarah. And rest assured, I will get to every last one of them. Casey, Carina, Alex Forrest, Jimmy Slade…yes, I know who he is…Ellie and Devon, Morgan...all of them. But I'll start with one of the two things you hold most preciously in your life."

He stepped back and looked at both Chuck and Sarah. The grin across his face conveyed every last bit of malice within him. "It will be slow and painful for your son. He'll be begging me to end his life. And you will witness every last second of it."

Shaw quietly walked away from Chuck and Sarah to consult with Barringer's men. Chuck and Sarah sat quietly and looked at each other. Both of them couldn't shake the fear Shaw might succeed.

_**Vienna, VA**_  
><em><strong>March 22, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>2:15 AM EDT<strong>_

"What do you think you're doing?"

John clutched his chest as he tried to control his breathing. "Jesus, Samantha. Are you trying to kill me?"

"Why were you in Alex's office?"

John tried to think of an excuse, but the look on Samantha's face indicated she wouldn't believe him. He looked down at the ground. "It's Daniel Shaw. He escaped from prison."

Samantha's eyes widened. "What? How do you know that?"

"He called me. He said he would let all of us go if I gave him the IntComm."

Samantha shook her head. "Please tell me you don't believe him, John."

"Well, he sounded pretty sincere, and he said everybody else's judgment is clouded by their past dealings with him."

"John, listen to me. He WILL kill you. Think about it: if you give him the IntComm, what reason would he have to keep you alive after that? He doesn't have any."

"But if I don't go, he'll kill my parents!" John hissed to not wake anyone else. "I couldn't live with myself if they die and I could have stopped it!"

"John, no. This guy wants to make your parents suffer. Casey told me earlier tonight Shaw turned a stone-cold ex-agent on a little child twenty years ago. You know who that child was? Your Aunt Molly. She was six years old and Shaw had no trouble sending a killer after her. He'd have no trouble torturing and killing you to hurt your parents."

Samantha gently put a hand on John's shoulder. "Please, John. Shaw wants you dead. Nobody wants you to put your life in danger like this. Especially me."

Samantha could feel John shiver. "But I have to do something," John said quietly, unable to meet Samantha's gaze. "I can't just stay here in D.C. and pray everything works out for the best. I…I know I've been a bit overwhelmed by all of this, but sitting idly by while this bastard does this…I just can't. Please, Samantha. I have to be able to look at myself in the mirror and know I did everything I could."

Samantha looked at him. There was no doubt in her mind it would be almost impossible to rescue John's parents without him. But nobody wanted John to lose his life, either. She could end this right now with one well-worded scream since she was in earshot of almost everybody. But John would never forgive her if she did that. She needed to come up with a plan.

"Did Shaw tell you where to meet him?" she asked gently.

"He said to fly to Atlanta and he'd call at 9:00 AM. But he said he might send me on another flight somewhere."

Samantha shook her head. "No, he's looking to make a quick exit. He'll get the IntComm and probably hop a flight somewhere. Hartsfield-Jackson Airport is one of the busiest in the world, isn't it?" John nodded in agreement. "Maybe if we got to Atlanta early, that would give us an advantage."

"How?"

Samantha pointed to Alex's computer and smiled. "If we could download the Intersect from here, I'm sure we can order a plane to fuel up and take us to Atlanta."

John returned her smile. "I'll give you the password."

Samantha sat down at the computer and typed in the password John told her. She kept it to herself, but she now had a way to make everybody happy. She just hoped it would bring his parents home.

_**Langley, VA**_  
><em><strong>March 22, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>4:30 AM EDT<strong>_

John and Samantha drove up to the auxiliary gate at CIA Headquarters, which would lead them to the access road to the airstrip hidden amongst the tree-lined grounds. They showed their IDs to the guard at the gate, who had their names on a flight manifest emailed by Alex Forrest herself…or at least one emailed from the computer of Alex Forrest. Samantha headed down the roadway, making a turn at the sign for Hangar 4.

"Where are you going? It says Hangar 2 is straight ahead," John said with some concern.

"Oops, sorry," Samantha replied.

"Are you sure you're OK? You've made four wrong turns on this trip. We should have been here thirty minutes ago."

"I don't like driving in the middle of the night, John," Samantha replied with some annoyance. "Besides, I haven't been in Washington since I was ten. I don't know the area."

"OK, OK. Let's just get there."

Samantha drove down the access road in the correct direction until they saw Hangar 2 ahead of them. A Gulfstream 250 jet was waiting for them inside. They exited the car and a aviation worker took the car to the nearby parking lot. John and Samantha ascended the stairs into the jet.

Casey, Carina, Jimmy, and Alex were waiting for them inside the jet.

"Going somewhere, John?" Casey asked with considerable ire.

John's mouth dropped open in shock. He then put two and two together and turned angrily towards Samantha. "You told them! That's why you kept missing the exits; to give them time to get here!"

"Be glad you got this far," Carina angrily replied before turning on her daughter. "You never should have let him leave the house. All you had to do was yell your head off and we would have come running."

"He was going if he had to hitchhike his way there, OK? His parents were kidnapped. What did you want me to do?"

"How about acting like an agent instead of some lovesick teenager?"

Samantha could feel the blood drain from her face. "You're going to lecture me about being professional when I was born because you fucked an asset?"

"Wait, stop," Jimmy calmly replied as he got in between both of them. "This isn't helping Chuck and Sarah." He turned to John. "What exactly did Shaw say, John?"

"He said if I deliver the IntComm, he'd let all of us go. If I didn't, he'd kill my parents. And it has to be me; he'll kill them if he sees any of you."

"John, you can't risk your life like this," Alex replied calmly. "Your parents could never handle it if something happened to you."

"Oh, and if they die, I'm just supposed to be happy about it? You don't think it'll hurt me if I lose them?"

"John, we don't expect you to understand…"

"You're right. I don't understand. What makes my life more valuable than theirs?"

Casey put a hand on his shoulder. "I didn't understand it either, John. Until I adopted Olga and Natalya. Now they're our entire lives. And it's something that will never go away. Do you know how heartbroken your mother was when you had your first day of school? She wouldn't cry in front of you, but Gertrude had to come over and comfort her that entire day. But at least she knew you'd come home that day. She'll be in even worse shape the day you go away to college."

Casey paused for a moment. "Now imagine you leave and you never come back. Ever. How do you think she'll feel? No parent ever recovers from that."

John was silent for what felt like an eternity. "But you need me to get them back. Do you have a better idea? If I walk in, at least you have a chance to come up with something." John exhaled. "I can do this, Uncle John. I need to do this. I've helped you already; please let me help you now."

Casey looked at Carina, Alex, and Jimmy. All of them had the same look on their face. There was no time to come up with an effective plan without involving John.

Casey turned back to John. "You do exactly what we tell you when we tell you to do it, and you don't improvise. Most of all, you don't trade your life for the lives of your parents. Are you clear on that?"

John nodded. "Are you clear on that, too?" he asked Samantha, who nodded in agreement.

John walked to the front of the jet and pressed the button to close the door. "Let's get going, Captain," he told the pilot.

Everybody took seats and buckled their seatbelts. The jet pulled out of the hangar and headed for the runway.


	9. A Chip Off The Ol' Spy Block

_And here is the final chapter. I want to thank all of you for hanging in there and being patient with the delays. A big thank you to everyone who reviewed the story, especially **SpreadTheNerd**, **Michael66**, **EastCoastCaptain**, **Jaytoyz**, **Coreymon77**, **Jimmy144**, **Osced**, **Katsamura**, **Tempe4Booth**, and anybody else I may have forgotten. Of course, my appreciation goes out to **BDaddyDL**, who not only gave me the idea for the story but let me bounce a number of ideas off his head on how I should proceed._

_I'll be going on vacation in a couple of weeks, meeting up with one of my best friends on the French Riviera, which would sound so much cooler if I actually looked good in a bathing suit. But I haven't traveled much in my life, so I'm excited about the trip. When I get back, hopefully I'll have some new story ideas. In the meantime, enjoy this final chapter and please leave reviews._

_Take care!_

* * *

><p><strong><em>Atlanta, GA<em>**  
><strong><em>March 22, 2033<em>**  
><strong><em>5:50 AM EDT<em>**

John looked out of the window of the government-issue car the Department of Homeland Security office in Atlanta provided them as they drove to a secured location near Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport. They continued to go under the assumption his parents were being held somewhere close to the airport so Daniel Shaw could make a quick getaway. Unfortunately, that still left far too much real estate to cover, and any hint of a search would almost surely spell the end for them.

He looked over at Samantha, who rode in the back of the car with him. Carina was in the front seat with the liaison from the Atlanta office. Samantha hadn't left his side since they departed from Langley, but she didn't say a word to him either. The most she did was to occasionally take his hand and give it a gentle squeeze. He appreciated she was trying to comfort him. But given what they were about to do, perhaps she was trying to comfort herself.

The sun wouldn't rise for another ninety minutes, and John thought it was only fitting to see nothing but the dark of night outside. Certainly it reflected his mood. One way or another, this would be over in a few hours. Everyone was still confident they would rescue his parents and keep the Intersect out of the hands of Daniel Shaw. He tried his best to remain optimistic, but the fear of losing them…or being killed in their presence…wouldn't go away.

The car pulled up to a small building near the cargo terminal at the airport and everybody got out. Carina opened the trunk and John pulled out the two bags of equipment as Casey, Jimmy, and Alex pulled computer equipment and weapons out of their vehicle. They were met by the CIA regional director and the head of the DHS in Atlanta, who showed everyone to a secured conference room.

"Have a seat, John," Casey said as he took two of the bags and inventoried the equipment inside. Jimmy went to the opposite side of the conference table and attached the IntComm to a specialized laptop with a secure link to the CIA server room at Langley.

"What are you doing with the IntComm?" John asked Jimmy.

"I'm making a few…modifications…to help us," Jimmy replied. "If Shaw sticks to his schedule, I should have just enough time to make this work so he won't be able to download the Intersect."

"Why not just take the Intersect out of it?"

Jimmy shook his head. "We have to assume he'll scan the IntComm first. If the Intersect isn't in there, it won't take Shaw very long to figure that out. We have to fool him for as long as we can."

"Wait, I don't understand. How do we get my parents back when we don't even know where they're being held?"

"Actually, that's being taken care of right now," Alex replied. "And someone is about to get a small amount of payback."

"What do you mean?"

_**Langley, VA**_  
><em><strong>March 22, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>5:50 AM EDT<strong>_

Kristin Collier walked down the corridor in the secured section of CIA Headquarters. She was relieved the accusations of treason leveled against her yesterday lasted all of an hour. She was even happier when Alex came down to apologize to her personally for what happened and told her she might be needed to assist with the person who tried to frame her. For all of the bureaucratic headaches her job brought from unhinged agents and ass-covering government officials, this morning's little trip was about to make all of that worth the effort.

"He didn't give us much during interrogations last night. Are you sure we can convince him to do this?" she said to the person walking down the corridor with her.

"I spent six years as a KGB agent. I'm going to pretend you didn't ask me that," Gertrude Verbanski replied with a raised eyebrow as they reached Bob Hume's cell.

Kristin swiped her access card to open the cell. She walked purposefully to Hume, who was sleeping on his cot.

"Get up," she said contemptuously as she shook him hard. Hume slowly sat up on his cot and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"What do you want now?"

"It's not what I want; it's what you want." Kristin paced slowly back and forth in front of Hume, but her eyes kept that same look of scorn. "You're in over your head, and you know it. Right now, we can make charges of treason stick against you. We can nail you for selling a government weapon to an enemy of the state. Executions are a bit rare these days, but I think they'll make an exception for what you did. Unless, of course, you cooperate with us. Then perhaps you'll only spend twenty or thirty years behind bars."

"What do I have to do?"

Kristin tossed Hume's mobile phone at him. "You're going to call Daniel Shaw and give him the information we want him to hear. And you will keep him on the line until we complete our trace."

Hume shook his head. "And if I do this, Shaw will find me and I'll be dead even sooner. Thank you, but I'll take my chances with a trial."

Kristin's lip turned upward in a bit of a deranged smile. "Of course, I was being generous when I said we'd bring you up on charges of treason. Since we're in a bit of a hurry, I think I'll just walk out of here and leave you in her capable hands," she said as she gestured towards Gertrude.

Hume chuckled. "Uh, no offense to Grandma over there, but I just don't see her breaking me."

Verbanski pulled out a dagger and threw it at Hume. The dagger embedded itself in Hume's cot three inches from his groin.

Kristin turned to Verbanski. "Weird. I was expecting you to get it closer."

Verbanski shrugged. "Well, I have to practice with my left hand sometimes. You never know when you might be forced to throw with your bad hand."

Kristin looked back at Hume, who was turning four different shades of white. A wet stain began to form in the nether regions of his orange jumpsuit.

"Now, what were you saying before about helping us?" Kristin asked with a smile.

_**Atlanta, GA**_  
><em><strong>March 22, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>6:00 AM EDT<strong>_

Daniel Shaw received the report from Barringer's men that no unusual activity had been seen in the area and nothing about their location was being mentioned on any communications by civil or government authorities. He was actually a bit disappointed. He figured John Bartowski would rush to tell John Casey or Alex Forrest about his little phone call and try to design some plan of attack. Perhaps John was so desperate to get his parents back that he listened to Shaw's every word. _It's been a long time since I was that impulsive_, Shaw thought.

Shaw's phone began to ring. He looked at the number on the caller ID and frowned. "This better be good," Shaw said angrily to Bob Hume.

"I just figured you would want to know that John Bartowski's name came up on a passenger list for United flight 3604 from Dulles to Atlanta. He should arrive there around 8:00 AM."

"Are you sure?"

"When it came up on the computer, I drove over to Dulles to confirm it."

"Taking some initiative. I'm impressed, Mr. Hume. Was anybody with him, perhaps someone tailing him?"

"No, Mr. Shaw. I followed him from the security checkpoint right to the gate. I even watched the door close and the jet taxi towards the runway. Nobody said a thing to him. He was alone."

"You turned out to be a prudent investment."

"Uh, speaking of which…when do I get the password to access the money you promised?"

"Be patient. Just as soon as I wrap things up here. And I trust you can keep your mouth shut about all of this?"

"Yes. Of course," Hume replied. Shaw disconnected his phone and walked back to where Chuck and Sarah were still tied up.

"I guess trusting others is something that was passed from father to son," Shaw said condescendingly to Chuck. "He's coming alone. No backup. He must figure I'll let all of you go. I'm almost saddened, actually. I would have loved a bigger audience. More of your friends to meet a horrible death in your presence. Oh, well. I'll get to them soon enough."

He pulled a roll of duct tape out of a box and tore off two pieces, placing them over the mouths of Chuck and Sarah. "I thought I'd save myself the bother of you two trying to talk tough or plead for mercy. And after I take care of John, we're going to take a little trip to find your daughter."

Shaw rummaged through the box again and pulled out a briefcase. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a little 'insurance policy' to prepare."

Shaw walked out of the warehouse, and Sarah let out a scream of anger through the duct tape as she struggled against her restraints.

_**Atlanta, GA**_  
><em><strong>March 22, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>6:10 AM EDT<strong>_

"Good work, Kristin. Thank Gertrude for us."

Alex walked back into the conference room where Casey, Jimmy, Carina, John, and Samantha were waiting for the good news. "We have Shaw's location. It's an abandoned warehouse just southeast of the airport property along Interstate 285."

Casey booted his gComm and did a search for the warehouse based on the address Alex told him. He activated the projection unit. "There are only four entrances to the warehouse, and we have to assume Shaw will have all four of them well-guarded. Once Chuck, Sarah, and John are safe, breaching the structure won't take long. But getting you in there won't be easy, Slade."

Jimmy studied the photo. "I have a few ideas on the subject, but we'll deal with that later." He disconnected the IntComm from his computer and handed it to John. "Shaw will probably call you around 8:15, once he thinks you've gotten off the plane. We'll use a taxi to drive you to the warehouse. The most important thing, John, is to act like you want your parents back more than anything. We'll home in on your signal."

"How?"

Jimmy handed him an earpiece the size of a grain of rice, which John put in his ear. "A little thing I created for the Agency a few years back. You can talk and listen like we're standing right next to you and they'll never find it. It'll be turned off until one minute after you go in the warehouse, just in case they scan you for listening devices when they frisk you."

"And I'm supposed to just give Shaw the IntComm?"

"His first instinct will be to put on the sunglasses and download the Intersect. But I made a couple of modifications. If he puts on the glasses, the series of images he sees will actually freeze his neural pathways temporarily. He won't be able to move a muscle for fifteen minutes. By then, he'll be in a straitjacket and locked up inside a police wagon."

"But the real Intersect is still on this?"

Jimmy nodded. "Once Shaw has been incapacitated, I'll get inside the warehouse, free your parents and lead all of you out of there. Casey will call for everyone else to breach the structure and take out Shaw's men. If all else fails, I'll download the Intersect to assist us in getting out."

John was quiet for a moment. "Are you sure this will work? It sounds very risky."

"Every mission has risk, John," Carina said. "But we know what motivates Shaw. The opportunity to kill you with your grandfather's own invention right in front of your parents? He can't resist the opportunity. He'll want to download that Intersect in him just to twist the knife further."

"But he'll never get the chance," Jimmy replied confidently. "You can do this, John."

"Yeah, OK," John replied quietly.

"Casey," Alex interrupted. "The DHS has the head of the Atlanta HBT Elite team on videoconference. We have to go over the plans with them."

Casey and Alex left the room to conference with the Atlanta Police Department. Carina and Jimmy went for some coffee, leaving Samantha and John alone in the conference room. Samantha took the seat next to John's.

"You don't sound too confident," she said. "Remember what I said in your hotel room after we got back from Barringer's apartment? I told you to trust them. They haven't let you down once."

"No, I know. It's not them I'm worried about."

Samantha smiled. "And what did I say to do most of all?"

John looked down at the ground before nodding. "Trust myself."

"Exactly. I'm pretty sure they would have handcuffed you to your bed and left you behind if they couldn't trust you. But you've done great work. You even saved my life." She took his hand. "Believe you can do this, John. That's what they told me the very first day of training. Be confident in yourself."

John looked into her eyes and smiled. "Thank you. I don't know how I could have handled this if it wasn't for you."

Samantha returned his smile. "Not to worry. I have a way for you to pay me back."

"How?"

"After it's over."

Samantha stood and looked at John for a moment before leaning down and gently placing her lips on his, gently caressing his cheek as she kissed him.

"Good luck, John," Samantha whispered before straightening up and walking out of the conference room. The CIA regional director appeared at the door and motioned for John to accompany him. John grabbed the IntComm off of the conference table and walked out with the director.

_**Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport  
>March 22, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>8:10 AM EDT<strong>_

John fidgeted in the back of the taxi, waiting for Daniel Shaw to call. The driver, an NSA agent stationed in Atlanta, told him to keep the IntComm out of sight to not attract attention. Aside from that, the agent didn't say a thing to him. The agent probably assumed John didn't want to be bothered, but John could have used a little conversation to calm him.

His iComm began to ring. "Hello?"

"Have you arrived in Atlanta?"

"I landed ten minutes ago," John replied while trying to keep the fear out of his voice.

"Very well. Head to the taxi stand and tell the driver you want to go to Interstate 285 and take Exit 60 South. Drive to the corner of Forrest Parkway and Sullivan Creek Road. Once the taxi leaves and I confirm nobody is following you, someone will lead you to me."

The phone cut off. "Did you get all of that?" John asked the agent.

"No problem. I'll have you there in fifteen minutes."

The agent pulled out of the taxi stand and headed towards the exit for Interstate 85 South. Fifteen minutes later, they pulled up to a large warehouse that appeared to have been abandoned for some time based on the uncut grass and rust along the outer walls. John exited the taxi.

"Comm works, John?" Alex Forrest seemed to ask out of nowhere. It startled John momentarily before he remembered the earpiece he was wearing.

"It works," he replied.

"OK, we have eyes on you. We'll go silent until you enter the building and then the mic will be hot one minute later."

"I understand." He looked back at the agent who drove him to the warehouse. "Thanks for your help."

"Good luck. We got your back," the agent said as he pulled away.

John watched the taxi drive out of sight. A few minutes later, a man emerged from the warehouse and trained an automatic weapon on John. John put his hands up, and the man led John into the warehouse. Two other men patted John down and took his iComm. They prodded him forward, and John walked towards the door leading to the main floor. He pulled the door open and gasped in shock.

"Mom! Dad!"

John sprinted the rest of the way to them. He dropped the IntComm on the ground as he hugged his mother, who could only press her cheek up against him as tears came to both of them.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I'm so sorry," John wailed as he hugged her tightly before moving over to his father to give him a hug.

"I'm sorry, Dad," he said as he hugged Chuck.

"It's OK, John. It's OK," Chuck said in a muffled voice behind the duct tape over his mouth.

"This is all very touching, but have work to do," Shaw said as he motioned for the two men who accompanied John into the warehouse to pull him off of his parents. John struggled for a moment, not wanting to let go of them, before stepping back and facing Shaw.

"As you can see, they haven't been harmed," Shaw said in a noncommittal voice. "Did you bring the IntComm?"

John looked at the spot on the floor where he left the IntComm. One of Shaw's men retrieved it and handed it to Shaw.

"And the glasses?"

John reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out the glasses. Shaw took them from John and attached the IntComm to his computer. The diagnostic program on his computer showed the IntComm's storage was completely full.

"Very good, John. I'm so glad you listened," Shaw said with a smile.

-/^\-

Casey pulled the van behind a building across the street from the warehouse. It could not be seen by anybody in the warehouse, but Casey didn't take any chances. He drove the streets around the area before arriving in case someone was keeping an eye out for some sort of rescue team.

In the back of the van, Alex listened to John inside the warehouse. She then switched frequencies. "James, Shaw has the Intersect. Are you ready?"

"Taking off now," Jimmy replied. He finished attaching his harness to the rescue line on the helicopter and checked to see if it was secure. He pounded on the window to tell the pilot he was ready. The helicopter took off from the cargo area at Hartsfield and headed south, away from the runways and towards the warehouse.

-/^\-

"OK, you have the IntComm," John said anxiously. "You promised to let my parents go."

Shaw smiled. It was not a pleasant smile by any stretch of the imagination. John swore he never saw a smile like that on anyone but the devil himself.

"John, let me tell you a little story," Shaw began, his voice brimming with confidence. "I'm sure you've already heard I had an Intersect in me many years ago. What you may not know is how your father took it out of me. He gave me a rigged Intersect, one that took my Intersect away instead of giving me the latest version."

Shaw nodded, and the two men pinned John's arms behind his back. "Fool me once, John, shame on you. Fool me twice…well, that just isn't going to happen."

Shaw activated the glasses and placed them on John's head. Shaw's men grabbed John's face to keep his eyes open as the images downloaded into his mind. John could feel his entire body become numb. He tried to will himself into taking a step but nothing happened.

The Intersect program shut itself off, and Shaw took the glasses off of John. Chuck and Sarah stared in horror as John was completely motionless.

Shaw turned to them and smiled. "Remind you of anything, Sarah?" Shaw taunted. "A little café in Paris, perhaps? Like mother…like son."

Shaw turned back to John and punched him hard in the solar plexus, cracking a rib in the process. John doubled-over as his autonomic system tried to keep him breathing. The lack of any sound from him shook Chuck and Sarah to their core.

"Only this time," Shaw said as he threw a punch at the vulnerable John to knock him down. "I have every intention of finishing the job."

"You son of a bitch!" Sarah screamed as hard as she could through the duct tape over her mouth, struggling against her restraints.

Shaw cackled at Sarah. "You know, you just have to love the irony. If John did exactly what I told him to do, he would have an Intersect in him right now. I'd be dead and you two would be free."

Shaw motioned for the two men to pick John up. "Don't," Chuck cried out in a muffled voice. "Please, I'm begging you…"

"You don't get it, do you," Shaw said contemptuously. "I've been waiting for this day for over twenty years, and I plan to enjoy every second of it." He took out a knife with a long, serrated edge. The smile of satisfaction on his face was augmented by the ice cold look he gave the two people he swore vengeance against. "I had Steven Barringer mail this to my contact inside the prison. It's specially designed to inflict the most pain as I cut into your son. That way, both of you feel what I felt when you took Evelyn from me."

He put the knife to John's face, who still couldn't move. They were interrupted by loud voices on their radios. One of Shaw's men picked up his radio.

"Say that again," the man said into his radio. "What helicopter?"

A loud crash from above made everybody except John look up, and they scattered when glass from the skylight fell to the floor around him. A long rope dropped into the warehouse, and Jimmy quickly slid down it to the warehouse floor. Shaw's men let John go and tried to attack him. Jimmy spun in the air and landed a vicious roundhouse kick at one man. He windmilled a brutal haymaker at the other, knocking him out with one punch.

Jimmy pivoted around quickly to find Shaw, only to be met by a roundhouse kick to the face. Jimmy fell to the ground.

"Slowing down in your old age, Jimmy?" Shaw teased as he looked around. He thought the better of it and grabbed the IntComm, taking off into the stacks of pallets and wooden boxes that covered a significant portion of the warehouse floor.

Jimmy shook off the cobwebs and jumped up. He looked around for Shaw before going to Chuck and Sarah and carefully pulling the duct tape from their mouths. He took a lock pick out of his flak jacket and freed Sarah's right hand.

"What the hell were you thinking bringing my son here?" Sarah looked ready to inflict more damage on Jimmy than Shaw would have. "You paralyzed him…"

"Later, Sarah," Chuck said quickly. "Get the IntComm back, Jimmy," Chuck ordered.

"Are you sure…"

"GO!" both of them screamed. Jimmy gave the lock pick to Sarah and took off after Shaw. Sarah undid the handcuff on her left wrist and unchained her ankles. She quickly went to Chuck and freed him as well. Chuck retrieved the automatic weapons from Shaw's men as Sarah went to John and cradled him in her arms.

"John…" she sobbed as she couldn't stop more tears from forming in her eyes. "Why did you do this? Why?"

"He'll be fine, baby," Chuck said in a soothing voice. "They must have programmed the IntComm thinking Shaw would put the glasses on first."

Sarah exhaled deeply. "What made him do such a crazy thing?"

Chuck put his arm around his wife and held her tightly while gently caressing John's face. "Well, he is our son. It runs in the family."

As scared as Sarah was for John, she couldn't avoid a smile coming to her face. She held him for several more minutes when she suddenly heard a groan from John. The groan got louder and louder.

"John, can you hear us? Can you say anything?" Chuck asked hopefully.

"Rrrrrr…..rrrriiiiii….."

'What, son?"

John's jaw slowly began to move back and forth. His entire face cringed in pain. "Ribs!"

"Oh, God," Sarah said, carefully laying John flat on the ground, forgetting what Shaw did to him. Chuck quickly looked around and saw an old first aid kit near the door where John entered. He ran over to retrieve it. He rummaged through it quickly and found an old gel pack. He broke it open and carefully placed it over John's broken rib.

-/^\-

Jimmy ran through the stacks of crates with his gun drawn, ready to take Shaw out. He looked around cautiously, not wanting to be taken out by a surprise kick to the face around the next corner.

"Casey, we've got a big problem," Jimmy whispered to not draw attention.

"What, Slade?" Casey asked.

"Shaw put the glasses on John. He's immobilized. Shaw's on the loose with the IntComm, Chuck and Sarah are free, but I assume they haven't left John's side. If Shaw's men come in, we're all dead."

"We'll keep them busy. Get the IntComm and take out that prick."

Jimmy desperately looked around to find Shaw. He then heard the sound of footsteps on metal. He ran to the end of the aisle and spotted a stairwell up to the catwalk surrounding the warehouse. He quickly ascended the stairs.

-/^\-

Casey got on his radio to the HBT team. "Cover the entrances, take out anyone there. Do not…repeat, do NOT…breach the structure. We still have four friendlies inside."

The HBT team broke up into four groups of six. Casey followed one group, Alex followed a second, and Carina and Samantha followed a third group. Shaw's men opened fire at all four entrances, forcing the teams to drop into the grass for cover. They began to return fire.

-/^\-

"John, can you move at all?" Chuck asked, trying to keep the anxiety out of his voice.

John slowly began to rock his legs back and forth. "Trying, Dad," he strained through a still-weak voice. He lifted his head with great effort, and Chuck gently moved him to a sitting position, keeping the cold pack on his broken rib.

"I insisted on going on the rescue, Mom," John said with a bit of shame. "I'm sorry I…"

"Do not be sorry," Sarah replied as she also held John up. "We're going to stop that bastard and get home safely." She paused for a moment. "THEN I'm going to ground you."

"Let's try to get up," Chuck said as he took John's arm around his shoulder. He got up slowly and John got his legs under him. Chuck held onto John as his Intersect-induced paralysis continued to fade. After a few seconds, John was able to stay on his feet without help from Chuck. Sarah grabbed the two automatic weapons as John took a few steps forward. He stumbled once or twice but slowly began to regain his balance.

Sarah looked up and spotted Shaw running along the catwalk. She opened fire at him, barely missing him. Shaw jumped back in surprise and hit the railing, his gun falling down to the warehouse floor as a result. He took off in the opposite direction. He turned his attention away from Chuck and Sarah…

…and was met by Jimmy's fist.

Shaw fell down and the IntComm flew out of his hands. He shook off Jimmy's punch and quickly stood up. Jimmy leaped past him to retrieve the IntComm. Shaw turned around as Jimmy tried to grab the IntComm and glasses lying on the catwalk.

"So the Intersect really is in there," Shaw said as he put the pieces together. He threw a punch before Jimmy had a chance to turn completely around. Jimmy staggered back but righted himself and attacked Shaw again. Shaw pushed off the railing to land a boot at Jimmy's head. Jimmy lost his balance and fell over the railing to the warehouse floor.

"NO!" Chuck screamed as he saw Jimmy fall from the catwalk.

Chuck, Sarah, and John stared in horror at Jimmy lying on the concrete floor of the warehouse and not moving an inch. They began to walk towards him when a half-dozen of Shaw's men opened fire on them. They dove for cover behind a stack of boxes. Sarah grabbed one of the automatic weapons from Chuck and returned fire. John stayed behind his father as Chuck opened fire to keep Shaw's men at bay.

John looked back and spotted Daniel Shaw returning to the warehouse floor and running towards Jimmy.

"Shaw's heading for the IntComm! I'll go get it!"

"No, John!" Chuck shouted, but John wouldn't be dissuaded as he sprinted towards Jimmy, attempting to outrun Shaw. Shaw spotted him and went into a full sprint.

"Don't even think about it," Shaw growled but John never heard him as he got to Jimmy first. He grabbed the IntComm and glasses and quickly checked for Jimmy's pulse before taking off.

"Son of a bitch." Shaw retrieved his gun and grabbed another one off of the unconscious Jimmy. He fired a shot towards John but missed as John hid in a large section of stacked crates and pallets. He resisted the urge to make too much noise by catching his breath, but his cracked rib was making breathing difficult already.

"Can anybody hear me?" John whispered as he looked back and forth fearfully.

"John, where are you?" Casey replied over his earpiece.

"I think I'm near the entrance I came in. I have the IntComm. Shaw is after me. Uncle Jimmy is alive, but barely."

"Get back to your parents, John. Right now. Find some cover; we're going to breach the structure."

John peeked around the corner to see Shaw moving down the aisle towards him. He quickly hid behind a stack of crates. Shaw got on his radio.

"He's somewhere in this area. Keep four people pinning down his parents so they can't escape. The rest of you, fan out and locate their son. I want him alive."

-/^\-

Casey signaled the HBT team to prepare to breach. "Forrest, Miller, we have to get in there now."

"We're still pinned down, Case," Alex replied.

"Check your bags. A little present in there."

Alex rummaged through the prep kit Casey made for each of them while Samantha did the same with the bag Casey gave Carina.

"Sonic grenades?" Carina was surprised before a smile came across her face. "Typical John Casey. Not a lot of sophistication, but a whole lot of fun."

Casey unslung the M-12 rifle on his shoulder and loaded the grenade, which was designed to have the same effects as a concussion grenade but allowed the blast radius to be controlled. Alex and Carina borrowed M-12's from their teams and readied themselves. Casey contacted the leader of the fourth team to prep that entrance.

"Set for a five-meter radius," Casey ordered as he programmed his sonic grenade. Carina and Alex followed suit. "Fire!"

Casey launched the sonic grenade at the northwest entrance as the other three teams also fired sonic grenades at their respective entrances. Shaw's men tried to retreat inside the building as all four grenades hit near the doors, exploding and knocking a number of them unconscious. The four teams charged towards the entrances.

"HBT teams, create a perimeter. Nobody gets out," Casey ordered as Alex, Carina, Samantha, and he entered the building.

-/^\-

John slipped down the aisle between the crates. He looked between stacks to see his mother using the last of her ammunition keeping Shaw's men at bay. John began to panic as he saw more of Shaw's men closing in on him. He looked down at the IntComm and glasses in his possession. He wasn't sure how long it would take Casey and the others to get inside, but there were still plenty of Shaw's men inside the warehouse and his parents couldn't hold out forever.

He took a deep breath. "Trust yourself, John…"

He put the glasses on, and the IntComm activated. The images began to flash by faster than he could comprehend them. He was frozen in place, unable to look away or even blink as he saw thousands and thousands of images.

The IntComm shut itself off and John's legs gave way under him. He caught himself before he fell to the ground, but the commotion gave his location away.

"Freeze," one of Shaw's men said, pointing a gun at John. He was soon joined by five other men, all of whom pointed their guns at him. John slowly stepped away from the stacks and walked into the aisle.

"Mr. Shaw, we have him," the first man said into his radio. The group of six men moved in towards John. "Let's go," he said in a menacing voice.

John froze as his eyes rolled back and his mind began to flood with various instructions.

His eyes snapped open. He stretched his hands out and spun on one leg, knocking everyone's weapons away in one swoop. He sent a hard jab at the man with the radio, turned on his heel, and followed it with an elbow to the next man. He landed a roundhouse kick on a third man and threw punches at the first two men again to knock them out. He did a back flip through the air to avoid a fourth man, coming down and sending his foot in the middle of the man's chest to knock him back. He thrust a palm strike at the fifth man, following it up by kicking his leg into the air and bringing his heel down on the man's face. The last man came at him. John leaped into the air and took him out with a perfectly-executed vertical kick.

John looked at the six men lying on the ground who almost captured him mere seconds ago.

"Wow, my family IS cool," he said in amazement.

He turned and ran down the aisle to head back to his parents. He staggered slightly as he felt the warehouse shake briefly from the sonic grenades outside. He spotted his mother as she ran out of ammunition. The men firing at his parents started to close in with their weapons aimed at them. John looked all around at the stacks of crates and pallets in the warehouse when he froze again. This time, his mind flooded with various freerunning techniques.

"Mom, get down!" John shouted as he sprinted towards Shaw's men. They opened fire on John, who jumped onto a stack of pallets before leaping to a higher stack of boxes. His next step took him over the aisle onto another stack of boxes. He cartwheeled on the boxes and flew through the air, coming down on top of the four men and tackling all of them to the concrete floor. Two of the men tried to get up, but John got the drop on them quickly. He knocked one out with a chop to the throat followed by an uppercut, and the other was put down with a butterfly kick. The other two got up, only to be knocked down again by a roundhouse kick from Chuck and a shot to the back of the head from Sarah.

Sarah looked at her son in shock. "What have you done?"

John shrugged. "Well, Uncle Jimmy was supposed to download the Intersect, but he's kind of out of it right now."

Chuck, Sarah, and John ran over to where Uncle Jimmy was lying unconscious. "He's still alive," Sarah said as she checked Jimmy's pulse. She carefully checked the rest of him. "His back is broken." She ran her fingernail along Jimmy's palm. "Oh, God. No response. His spinal cord might have been severed."

Chuck ran over to grab the radio from one of the men John knocked out. He switched to the police band. "Have an ambulance crew at the ready, spinal injury protocol," he said to the Atlanta Police personnel outside the building.

Chuck, Sarah, and John were surprised by the sound of gunfire. They turned in the direction of the sound to see Carina and Samantha attempting to hold off several of Shaw's men at the opposite end of the warehouse. They ducked behind some crates, but another group of Shaw's men fired from the other direction. They had no means of escape.

"Hang on to the IntComm. Stay with Uncle Jimmy," John told his parents.

"John," Sarah began as her eyes momentarily flashed the fear any mother would have at seeing her child walk into danger. But she concentrated on pushing that fear aside. "Please be careful," she said quietly, holding back her emotions.

John nodded quickly and kissed her on the cheek. "Promise."

John ran down the warehouse and looked up at the catwalk, spotting a long chain tied between the ceiling and the catwalk. His Intersect flashed instructions to him and he jumped into the air, quickly climbing the various stacks of crates and pallets to a spot above the gunmen. He pushed two boxes off the top of one of the stacks, which fell towards one group of Shaw's men. The boxes hit their target, and Shaw's men were knocked down. John leaped for the catwalk railing and pulled himself up. He ran down the catwalk to where the chain was and untied it from the railing. He looked at the chain and at the floor below where Carina and Samantha were pinned down. The Intersect kicked into action once again, filling his mind with various physics equations.

"Sam! Carina!" John shouted as he climbed on top of the railing. He wrapped the chain around one arm and dove off the catwalk. The chain swung him directly towards them. He reached out with his other arm, and the two women grabbed a hold of it. The three swung upward to the opposite catwalk, and John wrapped his legs around the railing to hold them there. Carina and Samantha quickly climbed up on the catwalk, and Carina opened fire with her gun, easily taking out the other group of Shaw's men while Samantha pulled John onto the catwalk.

Carina was impressed. "Just like your old man. Maybe even better."

"Come on. Let's get everyone out of here," John said, out of breath from the stunt he just pulled. They went to the stairwell and ran downstairs to the main floor where Alex was waiting for them.

-/^\-

Chuck stayed with the IntComm and kept an eye on Jimmy as Sarah went to grab one of the guns by Shaw's men. She turned to walk back to Chuck when she was met with a roundhouse kick to her face. She fell back and dropped the gun.

She looked up to see Daniel Shaw pointing a gun at her head and ready to pull the trigger.

"Get up," he growled in barely-contained fury. Sarah slowly got to her feet. "Hands on top of your head and interlock your fingers." Sarah did as she was told. Shaw kept a few steps away so Sarah didn't have a chance to grab the gun. "Walk forward," Shaw ordered.

The returned to where Chuck was keeping watch over Jimmy. Shaw kept his gun aimed at Chuck and Sarah as he reached down to grab the IntComm from the ground, placing it in the bag around his shoulder. He then pulled out some sort of remote device.

"You'll never get to leave the building with that, Shaw," Chuck said calmly.

Shaw smiled. "I'm surprised, Chuck. You of all people appreciate classic movies. See if you can guess in what movie the bad guy says, 'When you steal $600, you can just disappear. When you steal 600 million, they will find you…'"

"…unless they think you're already dead," Chuck finished for him.

"Exactly. My little insurance policy. There's C-4 planted all over the warehouse. Enough to kill everybody within 200 yards of the building. I press the button on this remote, sixty seconds later, all of you are dead. By this time next week, I'll make billions selling all of the secrets of the government to the highest bidder."

"Let them go," a voice called out.

Shaw turned to see John walking towards him with his hands raised. "My parents didn't do anything wrong. I'm the one you want. I have the Intersect in me."

Shaw shook his head and chuckled, stepping to his left to keep Chuck and Sarah between John and him. "I don't expect you to understand, John. You're still a kid. You don't know what it's like to have everything you ever had in life taken from you. If you were in my shoes, you'd never rest until you found the person who destroyed your life."

He reached into his bag and pulled out a gold pendant. "This is all I have left to remember Evelyn. This little coin she gave me from a trip she took to Egypt. It was the last time I saw her, right before she went on her next mission and was gunned down in cold blood. Your mother did that, John. Your mother took away the love of my life."

John never heard Shaw's last words, as his eyes darted back and forth while the Intersect flashed a series of maps and personal letters through his mind.

"Operation Tripoli Rising," John said quietly.

Shaw stared at John. "How do you know what mission she was on? The CIA never even told me."

John shook his head. "She wasn't on a mission for the CIA. She was on a mission for the Libyan government."

Shaw approached John and pointed the gun at his face. "You're lying," he seethed.

"That pendant is a gold coin looted from an archaeological site in the mountains outside Derna. The Libyan government was trying to get a list of U.S. Marines responsible for destroying a weapons depot in the late 1980s, and Langston Graham got wind of it. He set himself up as a Libyan agent who wanted to buy the list. He sent my mother to eliminate whoever showed up to sell the list. That was her Red Test."

Chuck and Sarah turned to John in an equal state of shock to Shaw. "Nobody in the Agency knew why Evelyn Shaw was targeted, not even Beckman. How did you figure it out?" Sarah asked.

"I don't know, Mom. I saw the pendant, and suddenly I saw a bunch of handwritten notes in my head with Graham's name on them. He never logged it as an official mission because he was one of the Marines on that list. That group carried out an illegal mission while the Reagan administration was in the middle of the Iran-Contra affair, so nobody would take responsibility for it. If the Libyan government got its hands on the list, Graham's career would be over, and so would his life. Along with all the other Marines on that mission."

"You didn't kill an innocent woman in cold blood, Mom," John said quietly. "You stopped a traitor."

Chuck and Sarah stared at their son in open-mouthed shock, but Shaw's last visages of sanity were gone.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

Shaw raised the gun to John's forehead, but a quick flash prompted John to swipe his arm upward, knocking the gun away. John spun and landed a kick to Shaw's face. He was knocked back, dropping the remote detonator, but he attacked again, completely blinded by insane fury. John sidestepped his attack with a speed Chuck and Sarah hadn't seen in years. John nailed Shaw with a hard jab and followed it up with a second and a third. Shaw was dazed but remained on his feet. John spun and landed a kick squarely in the middle of Shaw's chest, knocking him to the ground.

John approached Shaw, who suddenly reached underneath him and found his gun. He cocked it and aimed it at John.

"Too late, John," Shaw said as he pulled himself up. His expression was nothing short of total derangement. "This story is going to have a different ending. Today, I get to walk out of here and your parents will spend the rest of their lives feeling the pain I've felt for thirty years. And no little metal pipe to the back of the head will stop me this time."

Shaw squeezed the trigger. A series of shots rang out. Shaw was riddled with bullets and fell to the ground.

John Casey walked slowly up to them and looked down at Shaw in complete scorn.

"Yeah, that's why I brought my Sig," Casey spat.

Shaw felt the world slipping away. His hand slid along the ground and found the remote detonator. He pressed the button as he expelled his last breath. The unit beeped, and the clock began its countdown.

Casey's eyes widened and he grabbed the remote unit. "Is this what I…"

"Shaw wired the entire building!" Chuck replied in a panic.

Casey grabbed his radio. "HBT units, evacuate the area now. That's an order. Evac now!" He turned back to the Bartowski family. "Let's go!"

"There's not enough time John," Sarah said. "We have to clear 200 yards past the building in forty seconds."

"Chuck, can you do anything with it?" Casey asked.

Chuck took the unit and looked at it. "Not in thirty seconds," he said gravely. "Irene Demova isn't going to help us this time."

John studied the unit and began to flash. His eyes widened. "I can stop it, Dad!"

"How?" Chuck asked in surprise

John grabbed the remote. "No time to explain." He reached into Jimmy's flak jacket for a pair of wire cutters and a screwdriver. He quickly opened the back of the remote and ripped the circuit board out as the remote beeped out the final fifteen seconds. He found the wire he wanted and cut it with the clippers. He then took the tip of the wire and touched a part of the circuit board. The beeping stopped.

John breathed a huge sigh of relief and turned the remote detonator over to look at the display. "Awww…" he said in frustration.

"What's wrong?" his father asked.

"It would have been so cool if I stopped this one second later," John lamented.

Chuck looked at the display, which read 0:08. "Oh, you're right. That would have been so epic."

Casey looked over their shoulders and groaned when he saw how much time was left. He shook his head in disgust. "Frickin' nerds," he grumbled.

By contrast, Sarah was sporting an ear-to-ear grin as she kissed her husband and gave her son a hug. "Yeah, but they're my nerds," she said happily.

_**Emory University Medical Center, Atlanta  
>March 25, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>10:30 AM EDT<strong>_

John walked down the hallway of the hospital. This was the first day anyone was allowed to visit Jimmy following two surgeries and two days in the Intensive Care Unit of the hospital. He was supposed to be back in school following Spring Break on Monday, but the CIA called Santa Monica High School and made up an excuse for him to miss a few more days of school. If only they could have gotten him out of writing that English term paper he had due next week.

He gently knocked on the door and poked his head in. "Uncle Jimmy?"

Jimmy lay in his hospital bed with a board underneath him to prevent any damage to his surgically repaired back. The doctors at the hospital were able to repair the damage to his spinal cord thanks to a machine invented fifteen years ago that could repair and restart the damaged nerves in the spine if a patient was attached to it within four hours from the time of the injury. Certainly Jimmy looked in much better shape than he did earlier in the week.

"Hey, John. How's the rib?"

"It's fine. I was more worried about you. Although I hear the nurses visit you a lot."

"Don't get me started. One of the nurses just got a divorce from a total sleazebag, and another one reads romance novels on her breaks. I don't think they've given me a moment's peace since I was moved out of the ICU."

"Ah, the life of a spy, even an injured one," John replied with a grin.

"You can have it," Jimmy replied in annoyance. "But hey, you did a wonderful job, John. No bullshit. We couldn't have rescued your parents without you. I'm so glad you held your ground."

"Any guesses where I got my stubborn streak from?"

Jimmy gently laughed. "That and a penchance for pulling out miracle finishes. How are your folks doing?"

"They're fine. My dad is putting the finishing touches on the IntComm and is ready to hand it over to Aunt Alex. I just came over to warn you that my mother might be dropping by. She hasn't been in too good of a mood all week."

"Aaah, hell. I figured that would happen eventually. Any clue exactly when she might be stopping by?"

"John, can I talk to Uncle Jimmy alone for a moment?"

John turned to see his mother at the door. He turned back to Jimmy. "Pretty soon, I think."

Jimmy smiled. "You better get going."

John grasped Jimmy's hand. "Thank you for all the help you gave me," he said before walking to the door. "Mom, play nice," John said as he left the room.

Sarah let the door close first before walking over to Jimmy. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better today, thanks."

"Good," she replied…and smacked him upside the head.

"Ouch! That's only for when I make fun of myself!"

"You bring my son on a mission to rescue us? You train him to be a spy? You put him in danger like that?"

"What did you want us to do, Sarah? We figured the kidnappers would try to contact him because they'd never get anywhere with the rest of us. When we found out it was Shaw, we didn't want to involve John any further. We told him Shaw would kill him if he got the chance but he didn't care. He still wanted to bring you home. Shaw breaking out of prison forced our hand."

"I never wanted John to find out about what any of us did. My children deserve to live a good life. A life where they don't have to worry about who might come after them."

"And they got that. I don't think anybody in history were better parents to their kids than you and Chuck. All you two were missing were a couple of ugly sweaters, a brownstone on the Upper West Side, and a supply of Jell-O pudding. But you can't protect them forever."

"What sweaters?"

Jimmy rolled his eyes, one of the few body parts he could move. "Never mind."

There was a knock on the door, and Casey entered. "Oh, sorry."

"Halt!" Sarah said angrily. "You're next."

"What's she talking about?" Casey asked.

"Our brilliant, well thought-out tactics in rescuing Sarah and her better half," Jimmy said tiredly.

"You know, I can almost forgive Jimmy because he doesn't have kids," Sarah said as she turned her anger on Casey. "But you have two little girls, John. You should know how hard it is to see them in danger like that."

"Sarah, he's not a six-year-old going to his first day of school," Casey replied calmly. "Were you this upset when John got injured in football? I didn't see you cancelling climbing Mount McKinley with him when he was fourteen because you were worried about him. And didn't all four of you go parasailing in Hawaii last year? I remember that because Gertrude and I brought the girls to join you."

"This is different. Now he knows what his parents used to do. How am I supposed to tell him not to be a spy? I don't have a leg to stand on."

"Who says he wants to be a spy? Just because he did a great job helping us doesn't mean he'll want to become one. He's a good kid, but if you get in his face about what he can and can't do, he'll rebel just like any teenager would. He'll do it just to spite you."

"He's right, Sarah," Jimmy added. "Although I do love the irony of Casey telling someone not to be confrontational. Just be honest with him, and don't hold anything back. You and Chuck would do anything for your kids, right? Well, they would do anything for you, too. Like all of us would."

Sarah stood there silently for a moment before she nodded. A smile even came to her face. "That's a good point. You wouldn't be in the hospital if you weren't trying to help us."

"Ugh," Jimmy groaned. "Case, could I hire one of your security guys? There's a couple of nurses in this section who really don't get how Florence Nightingale Syndrome works. I don't want Alex banishing me to the couch again when I go home."

Casey grimaced in disgust and exited the room. Sarah turned back to Jimmy. "Speaking of which, I have something else to discuss with you. Alex didn't sleep a wink while you were in surgery and the ICU. The poor woman is at her wit's end seeing you get injured." Sarah began to get worked up again. "You've been an agent for over twenty years, and now that she has an office job, she has to worry about whether or not you'll come home in one piece. You can't keep doing that to her. Either you get some sense into your head or you find yourself a good divorce attorney..."

"I already talked to the President," Jimmy said. "He called earlier this morning to thank me for helping get the IntComm back, although I told him John was the real hero in this. I told him I was done. I think we'd all agree the government got their money's worth out of me."

Sarah was taken aback. "You did? Wow, I thought I'd have to break out the knives to get you to retire."

"Well, the President wasn't 100% happy about it. But like I told him, someone better always comes along." Jimmy reached his hand up, and Sarah took it. "Look, I know you don't want John putting his life in danger, but just let him make the decision. What he did in the last week was amazing. He would be an incredible agent. He could be better than all of us. He certainly had the best teachers, right?"

Sarah nodded and smiled. There was a knock on the door. "Mom, are you done beating up Uncle Jimmy?" John said with a smile.

"She was just putting the finishing touches on my black eye," Jimmy replied with a smile.

Sarah laughed and gave Jimmy a kiss. "Get some rest," she said before walking over to the door. John and she walked out into the corridor. "Where's Dad?" she asked John.

"He's down in the coffee shop."

Sarah put her arm around him. "I think the three of us should talk."

They took the elevator down to the Lobby and walked down the hallway to a small coffee shop nestled between the main cafeteria and the chapel. Chuck was waiting for them as they sat together at a table.

"John, first of all, no matter what happens, we love you and will support whatever decisions you make," Sarah began. "But we didn't tell you we worked for the government because we wanted you to live a happy, normal life. You and Emma are the most important people in our lives, and we'd do anything for you. And we are so sorry you were dragged into this."

"Absolutely," Chuck continued. "We didn't want to put you into danger. And no matter how hard we tried to keep you from it, our past caught up to all of us. And you didn't deserve that."

John looked back and forth between his parents. "OK, but wasn't it this same past that put you two together and let you fall in love? It seems to me if it wasn't for your past, I wouldn't even be here and grew up the way I did. I mean, my friends at school are so jealous you're my parents. I hear every day how they wish they had my parents, that my parents are such cool people. And...well, other things I won't talk about. So, there's no need for you to apologize. I know I'm lucky to have you as my parents."

Sarah looked down at the table and her eyes welled up. She pulled John into her embrace. "I love you, sweetie," she whispered in his ear as she gave him a kiss.

"Love you, too, Mom." They separated and sat back in their chairs. "Is it OK if I ask a few questions about what you used to do? I mean, I know a few things from what everybody told me, but..."

"Anything, John," Chuck replied. "You deserve to know the truth."

John paused for a moment as what he wanted to ask suddenly became difficult. "I mean, I want to hear all the stories about how you met everyone...Casey, Carina, Jimmy, Alex...but Casey said something about the two of you getting married twice. He said I would have to ask you if I wanted the answer, and everybody kind of froze any time it was mentioned. What happened? Did you two get divorced? Was the first marriage not official?"

Chuck and Sarah looked at each other for a long moment. A silent decision passed between them to tell John the whole story.

Chuck took a deep breath. "Well, it has to do with the Intersect and a man named Nicholas Quinn..."

-/^\-

Alex knocked on the door to Jimmy's room. She pushed the door open and saw her husband lying on the bed. She didn't want to let it show, but she was overjoyed he looked so much better than he did when they wheeled him in for surgery three days ago.

"Hey gorgeous," Jimmy said. "How are you feeling?"

Alex looked down at the ground and smiled. She grabbed the chair by the door and placed it next to Jimmy. She leaned in and gave Jimmy a soft, tender kiss before sitting down and taking his hand.

"Of all the things that drive me up a wall about you, that is still the worst," Alex said. "You always worry about other people too much."

"I heard you were up for two days worrying about me while I was under the knife, so this time I'm right. At least I got to sleep through the whole thing."

"OK, point taken. But on Monday, I'm going to march into the Oval Office and tell that pain-in-the-ass President you've done enough..."

Jimmy squeezed her hand to get her attention. "I already did, Alexandra."

Alex looked at him in surprise. "You did?"

"I can't be a spy forever, although God knows I certainly tried. I spent all those years thinking I had to do this because Chuck, Sarah, and Casey gave me a second lease on life. But as much as I owe to them, I think I owe a lot more to you. And I'm going to guess you want me out while we can still get out and enjoy ourselves."

Alex grinned and put her hands on Jimmy's face, giving him a longer and more intense kiss than before. They became more and more worked up.

"Wait, wait," Alex interrupted them. "What about your back?"

Jimmy was able to lift his arm up and grab Alex's head, pulling her back to him for a hard kiss. "We'll improvise."

Alex wiggled her eyebrows at him as she pulled his blanket off. "I like the way you think."

"Lock the door, though. I don't want those nurses coming in."

Alex ran to lock the door but stopped. She turned around and glared at her husband. "What nurses?"

-/^\-

"So, it took time, but eventually I fell in love with your father again," Sarah concluded. "We decided we wanted to have a second wedding to symbolize being in love again. It wasn't as lavish as the first, but it was still beautiful."

"And you came along 18 months later, John," Chuck said. "We could tell you about how that happened..."

"No, I'm good," John said with a look of disgust on his face, which made his parents laugh.

Sarah took John's hand. "But you understand we were trying to protect you, right? We want you to live whatever life you want. And if that life is as an agent, we're behind you. We'll support you."

John was silent for a moment. "You know, at first it sounds crazy to want a life like that. Always being in danger, anybody betraying you like Shaw did? But then I think of all of the good things all of you did, the countless lives you saved. Uncle Casey wasn't exaggerating; you guys really are heroes."

Sarah nodded. "Everybody we love and care about is a hero. Especially you."

"Right now, I really don't know what I want to do. But I promise, whatever it is, I'll talk to both of you about it. I'm just glad I have your approval."

"You always will, John," Chuck said as he gave his son a hug. "We couldn't be more proud of you."

"Could I ask a big favor, though?"

"Anything."

"Well, since I don't have to go back to school for a few days, could we wait until Monday to get the Intersect taken out of me?"

Chuck shrugged. "I guess so. How come? Did you want to see what else you could do with it?"

John smiled. "That, plus I have someone else to thank for helping me get through this."

Chuck and Sarah looked at him with a piqued curiosity. "Who?"

_**Washington, D.C.  
>March 26, 2033<strong>_  
><em><strong>11:00 PM EDT<strong>_

"Now THIS is a date."

Samantha felt like she was on one of those dates people saw in those classic movies where everything was just perfect. The starry sky, the cool breeze as the horse-drawn carriage took John and her past the monuments of Washington, D.C. John was able to find the best restaurant in Georgetown and they spent the night talking and laughing, enjoying each other's company. John reminded himself to thank Aunt Alex, who helped him bankroll this date with some discretionary funds from her department.

"I must confess, I did have help," John demurred.

"What do you mean?" Samantha was confused until John tapped the side of his head. "Oh, of course. Hey, it's the least the government can do after everything you did for them."

"Everything WE did for them, Sam. You were a big help in rescuing my parents. British Intelligence is lucky to have you working for them."

"I guess it pays to know the head of America's intelligence community. Thanks to Alex, I'll finish training in a few months and be out in the field." She snuggled closer to John. "What about you? Does the thought of fast cars, cool gadgets, and saving the world sound like an appealing career?"

"I still don't know. I just want to enjoy the weekend for now and worry about that later." The carriage pulled to a stop. "Speaking of enjoying the weekend..."

John hopped out of the carriage and extended his hand. Samantha graciously took it and stepped out of the carriage. John tipped the driver, and the two walked into the nightclub. John gave the doorman their names, and he pulled back the velvet rope to let them inside.

"They had our names already?" Samantha asked him.

"I didn't have a choice. Technically, we're not old enough to be in here."

They got to the main floor of the club where the band was already at full volume and the floor was packed with dancers. John took Samantha's hand and led her out to the dance floor. She put her arms around him and began doing a slow, sexy dance in time to the music. John froze momentarily as his Intersect flashed on a variety of dance moves appropriate for the music. He then started moving back and forth, gyrating in sync with Samantha. They continued to dance for several songs.

"Wow, you are one amazing dancer," Samantha said in admiration.

"It helps to have a good partner in so many things," John said with a smile.

Samantha pulled his face close to hers. "That much is certain."

She tilted her head and her eyes closed as their lips met in a long, unbroken kiss that was full of promise, full of potential. They continued to kiss as they moved around on the dance floor. John felt so many things right now. His entire body felt like electricity was running through it. He didn't know where life was going to take him next. But he knew it was off to an unbelievable start.

* * *

><p><em>OK, I hope everything was taken care of to everyone's satisfaction. Again, a big thanks to everyone who read and reviewed this story, and a special thanks to BDaddyDL. See you soon!<em>


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